


Sunrise, Sunset

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Divinity: Original Sin (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: The Red Prince's birth was not the first time the prophecy was to be fulfilled.  The cycle has repeated again and again, each time failing, each time coming closer to success.  Sixty years before the events of Divinity: Original Sin II, a different red child was born; different in circumstances but the same in nature...





	1. Prologue - Dawn

Prologue – Dawn

Gentle rays of early morning sun bathe a small garden in golden light. A lizard woman traverses the stone path, her steps so careful and light that her feet seem to scarce touch the earth. In her arms, held with infinite care, is an egg. Reaching the center of the patio, she lays the precious burden in the hollow that has been lovingly prepared for it. She steps back, reluctance tarnishing the grace of her movements.

A hand catches and squeezes hers, green enveloping gold. She turns to her mate, and in his pride and confidence the flame of her hope steadies. She steps aside, and he takes his place. Flames flicker at the edges of his mouth as he inhales, then rush forward in a great gout to engulf the egg.

For a moment, the lovers cling together as the flames begin to die back and the egg’s shell cracks, now brittle from the heat. Apprehension transmutes to joy as the flames fade and the egg splits into pieces, pushed apart to reveal a baby boy.

The ecstatic new mother sweeps her baby up into her arms, laughing in delight as his tiny hand locks around one of her fingers. She presents the child to her mate, and when he recoils, it hurts worse than a slap.

“He’s red. Why is he red?”

Unease displaces her joy, but she forces a smile back onto her face. “Oh, who cares, Hameed? He’s beautiful and healthy. He’s ours.”

Hameed shakes his head, budding fury twisting his expression into a snarl. “No. _That_ cannot possibly be mine. I don’t know who else you slept with, but you better leave that thing on _his_ doorstep. I won’t have it in my house.”

“I can’t believe you!” She draws away from her lover, holding the child protectively against her heart. “There’s no one else, and you know it! What is wrong with you?”

“That… _demon_ is not my son.” He steps forward, reaching toward the child, and she retreats another step. “It’s some kind of abomination. It should be drowned.”

Her voice rises in both pitch and volume. “Listen to yourself, Hameed. You sound like a madman!”

His mien changes, his outstretched hand coaxing instead of grasping. “It’s not your fault, or mine, or anyone’s. Sometimes these things just happen. We’ll try again, Layali. It will be okay.”

Layali rises to her full height, icy resolve crystallizing her spine. “Yes. It will be okay, once you take some time to think. I am going to my mother’s house. Let me know when you come to your senses.” Ignoring the spluttered objections, she spins to the gate and ducks out of the garden.

The city streets are not quite busy this early, sparse groups of people hurrying to breakfast or work in the growing light. The infant fusses quietly for a few minutes, then begins to cry, a thin wail. A passerby glances at the baby, stops in shock and makes the sign to ward off evil. Layali bundles her son closer to her chest and increases her pace. She keeps her eyes forward and her head high, ignoring the occasional gasps, hisses, and mutters. She stops in front of a mid-sized home and raps on the door.

An older kin woman opens the door. “You’re early,” she remarks upon recognizing Layali. “And you’ve got…” She trails away, studying the baby for several seconds. “Hameed?”

“He’s…struggling with it,” she says firmly. “He needs some time.”

“Well, you’d better come in. Your father’s been wearing out the floor, pacing back and forth.”

The older woman leads the way to a cloth-shaded balcony, collecting a steaming teapot and cups along the way.

“Mereen! Layali’s here.”

The women ensconce themselves in cushion-covered wicker chairs, and the older lizard pours tea into three cups. “You’d best tell me what happened, dear. A red baby and no Hameed? Why, the poor darling doesn’t even have a diaper on yet.”

Layali takes a deep breath. “Hameed… I guess he assumes I cheated on him. He wants nothing to do with the baby.” Tears well in her eyes, and she blinks rapidly. “He was talking like we should just… kill him. I couldn’t stand it. I walked right out, and I’m not going back until he gathers his wits.” A sob breaks through. “We haven’t even named him yet.”

The old lady stands and gives Layali a warm squeeze, a hand trailing tenderly over her crest. “There, there, dear, one thing at a time. I already stocked up on diapers. Let me go get one before he lets loose all over you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Layali heaves a deep sigh, still fighting for her composure. “And do you have any baby food yet? He hasn’t had a bite since he hatched.”

Her mother pats Layali’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m all set to take care of my first grandbaby.” Her warm smile wilts, pierced by pain as she looks the baby over again. “I’ll be right back.” She bustles into the house. A minute later another lizard enters, a man of an age with her mother. His face is wrinkled, his neck skin beginning to sag, but his eyes are keen, bright with infectious joy.

“Layali! So good to see you. Let me get a look at my grandbaby!”

Hesitantly, Layali lifts the child, and he takes him gently, deftly from her hands.

“Now, this is something. Red as a rose, and just as beautiful.” He studies the child seriously. “That’s rare, beyond rare. Don’t know if I’ve ever heard of a red lizard.” His sharp gaze snags Layali’s eyes. “Does Hameed have any red in his line?”

She shakes her head. “No.” She takes a deep breath. “He wouldn’t have freaked out if he did.”

His eyes narrow in disapproval, the expression fading when he looks at the child again. “A grandson,” he muses. “Well, aside from the unusual color, he looks perfectly healthy.”

The old woman returns and bundles the babe into a diaper, then places him in his mother’s arms. “Here,” she says into the silence, handing over a jar and a spoon. Almost mechanically, Layali spoons the nutrient-rich paste into the baby’s eager mouth.

“Do you have any idea what might have caused his coloration?” the old kin asks.

“I don’t know, Dad. We didn’t do anything weird.” Layali blushes. “It was a normal laying, no oddities during or after.”

“No chance of contamination by another bloodline?”

“Mereen!”

“Now, Harouna, I’m just being methodical. I don’t truly think our daughter would be unfaithful.”

“I don’t care what you—”

“Please.” The soft word cuts through the argument. “It’s fine. It’s better to go through every possibility, anything that can help us figure out what might have…” She swallows. The thought “gone wrong” hangs in the air between them. “Anyway, that’s not a possibility. Not unless someone broke into the house without leaving any traces and switched my egg with an identical one. I barely let it out of my sight from laying to hatching.”

“Then it is most likely just a striking mutation.”

Silence rolls out for a few minutes. Harouna breaches it carefully, almost hesitantly. “Have you considered what to do about him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your husband wants nothing to do with him. You seem to think he’ll change his mind, but if he’s got it set in his heart that you were unfaithful, he won’t let it go. Even if you convince him to raise the child, he won’t treat it like a father would. It’ll wear your marriage down, like water dripping onto mud brick. Plink, plink, plink, and one day it all collapses.”

“Then what? What _should_ I do?”

“A gentle death might be the kindest thing,” she says bluntly. The kindly face is carved in harsh, forbidding planes, and for a moment Layali seems not to recognize her own mother.

“Harouna! How can you say such a thing of your own grandson?” Mereen says, expression aghast.

“Think for a moment. What kind of future does he have? What woman will have him as her own?” She gestures at the child. “Even newborn he looks demonic. Folks won’t tolerate him. He’ll be shunned, driven off, maybe killed on sight.”

Layali’s face proclaims horror and anguish at her mother’s words. The baby cries in pain, and she catches herself, loosening her grip so as not to hurt him.

“It’s not right.” Mereen shakes his head, expression bitter. “This child’s only sin is being born with a skin color people won’t like. And for that he should die?”

“Dear, do you really think the alternative is better?” She turns to her daughter. “How was the walk here? Did people say anything?”

Layali flinches. “Nothing to my face.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “They mostly made the sign of the evil eye, or just stared.”

“And there you have it,” Harouna says, tone sorrowful. “Tragic, to be sure, but you can try again.”

“It’s Layali’s decision, not yours,” her father interjects.

She raises her eyes to meet his. “What should I do?” she whispers.

His eyes hold countless stars, constellations of sorrow. “I do not know, my flower. Sometimes there are no good choices. I fear this is one of those times.”

Layali sits slumped. Her anchor and compass, her parents, suddenly seem old and lost. Her mother gives her shoulder a squeeze as she stands.

“Take all the time you need, dear. You’ll be welcome here as long as you want.” She disappears back into the house.

After a minute, her father gets up and nudges her over to share her seat. He wraps his arms around her, rocking her and whispering his love as their tears mingle and land like rain on the infant.

“He still needs a name,” she finally tells him, and swallows a sob. “Hameed won’t do it. Will you?”

Mereen nods gravely. “Of course.” The boy, his meal finished, has begun to doze, and he reaches down, letting one tiny hand wrap around his forefinger. “He’ll need a strong name, if he is to have any chance of surviving. One powerful enough to get him through many dark days.” He muses over the idea, then says, “Emirys.”

Layali touches the baby’s cheek and echoes, “Emirys.” After a moment, she nods. “Yes. It’s a good name.” Her face crumples, and she leans into her father’s embrace. “I can’t do it, Dad. I can’t give him up,” she sobs.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to. It’s your choice. And remember, killing him is irreversible; letting him grow up is not. You don’t have to make a final decision for some time.”

She nods and wipes her eyes. “Thanks. I… I need to think. I’m going to take a walk.”

Her father helps her to her feet. “Of course, darling. Do you want to leave him here?”

Her hands flex instinctively, clinging to her son. “No, I’ll walk with him.” She starts toward the door, then turns back. “Is there a scarf or something? For him?”

Her father nods his understanding, pain in the gesture, and enters the house. He brings her a length of cloth and helps her swaddle the baby in it. As she heads out the door, she encounters her mother again.

“Layali,” she calls softly, and the young kin’s shoulders hunch as though to ward off a blow. “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I just want you to know that.” Her gaze skitters over her daughter, as though afraid to add any more pressure to the young woman. “It won’t be easy either way, but your father and I won’t turn you out under any circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Layali whispers, and wraps her free arm around her mother, crushing her close in a desperate embrace.

Harouna nods, gaze still skittish. “Will you be back? I’m making flatbread and beans for lunch.”

Layali takes a deep breath and makes her decision. “I’ll be back in time to help you roll out the bread. Want me to get anything while I’m out?”

Harouna makes a shooing motion. “I’ve got everything I need.”

Layali steps outside into the bright light of a beautiful sunny day, picks a direction, and begins walking.

* * *

“Mommy, why do I have to wear a cloak when we go outside?”

Layali’s hands pause for the barest second in her weaving. She takes a deep, steadying breath before speaking.

“You’re different from other kin, sweetie. That scares some people. They might want to hurt you.”

“But _why_ do I have to wear it? It’s hot and scratchy.”

“So people won’t notice you’re different.”

“They notice anyway,” the child mutters. He clanks his blocks around for a moment, knocks down a tower in ill temper. “Why am I different?”

Layali gives him a tender, sorrowful smile. “No one knows. Maybe if we knew why, we could explain it to people and they’d be less afraid.”

He mulls this over for a while. When he speaks again, his voice is small. “I don’t want to be different.”

Layali finishes another row and sets the shuttle aside. She kneels by her son and wraps her arms around him.

“I know, sweetie. I wish I could make you normal so you didn’t have to deal with it. But we can’t help being what we are. And what you are is the only red lizard in Rivellon.” She kisses his crest and returns to her work.

“I’m not, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the only red lizard.”

The shuttle pauses again as Layali stares at Emirys in surprise. Cautious hope grows, and words tumble out of her as her hands begin to move again.

“You met someone else with red skin? Who? Where did you meet them?”

“My friend has red skin.”

“That’s wonderful, but when did you get a chance to meet this friend? Who are they?”

“I just know her. She’s a girl, and she’s lonely and different too. I know her because her scales are red like mine.”

Layali changes tack. “That’s really neat, Emirys. I’d like to meet her. Can you take me to visit her?”

“No,” the child says sadly. “I don’t know how to find her.”

A rustle in the doorway announces Mereen’s arrival. The child’s face lights up, and he runs to his grandfather for a hug.

“Grandpa!”

The older man chuckles and returns the embrace. “Did I hear correctly, Emirys, that you have a friend with red scales like yours?”

“Yeah, I’ve known her forever.”

“How wonderful! If you ever learn how to find her, I, too, would love to meet her. For now, though, would you mind helping me put away the groceries? There’s a sweet cake waiting for a good helper.”

The child’s eyes go wide with delight. “I’ll help!” he enthuses, and his grandfather chuckles.

“Go ahead and get started. I’ll be there in just a moment.” Emirys races out of the room, and the adults look at each other.

“He can hardly be blamed for making up an imaginary friend like himself. It’s terribly difficult for him not to be able to play with other children.”

“Yeah,” Layali sighs. “You know, he said it with such certainty that I couldn’t help but hope.” She smiles, bittersweet. “It would be better if he wasn’t the only one.”

“If any other children were born like him, it’s likely their parents also keep them hidden away for their safety. Speaking of,” he lowers his voice, “Harouna says some of the neighbors are gossiping again. I think I’d better plan another expedition into the countryside.”

Layali’s brows peak in concern. “Is it that bad?”

“I’ll take no risks with my grandson’s life. It’ll be fun, just the two of us and the wide world. Plus,” he adds with a grave look, “someday he may need to know how to survive off the land.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but I really appreciate you taking care of his schooling.” Layali sighs. “He’s so bright, so quick to figure things out. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll wind up being the first of a grand improvement to our race.”

“I’d believe it,” Mereen says with a fond smile. A thump sounds from the kitchen, and he turns. “I suppose I’d better go help him before something gets broken.”

Layali smiles and turns back to her work, deep in thought.

* * *

The youth knows as soon as he opens his eyes that something is wrong. It’s dark still, and his mother’s eyes are huge and frantic in the darkness. Then he smells smoke and hears a murmur of many low voices from outside.

“Get up,” Layali hisses, helping him to sit. “Put your cloak on.”

Reacting to the urgency in her tone, he holds his questions in, obeying in fearful silence. Layali grabs his pillow and wraps it in his blanket, wadding it all into a big bundle.

“What’s happening?”

She pauses to look him in the eye, and he can see the fear through her brave façade. “The house is burning, and there’s a crowd outside. Your grandfather and I will get their attention, then you’ll leave out the other door. We’ll meet up at our designated spot outside town. Come, we have to hurry.”

She turns to the door, and he looks around at his meager, precious possessions. Despite her urging, he pauses to grab a beaded leather cord and jam it deep in his pocket before following.

Smoke is filling the hallway outside his room, and they have to stay low, crawling quickly toward the front door. Mereen is there, looking frail and older than usual.

“Now, Emirys, watch through the window here until the crowd parts. Don’t try to run for it before a path clears, okay?”

He nods mutely, and she smiles and gives him a quick hug. “I love you. Be careful and be quick. We’ll get to the meeting spot as soon as we can.”

Mereen slaps his shoulder and gives him a toothy smile. “Remember what I’ve taught you. You’ll be all right as long as you do.” He pulls open the door and stumbles through.

“Remember,” his mother says, gathering up what he realizes is meant to be a decoy of him, “wait for an opening.” Then she is gone.

He peers carefully at the corner of the window, heart thudding. His heart constricts as the crowd engulfs the only family he has left, and he wishes he were older and bigger, that he could protect them instead of the other way around. He remembers his mother’s words and looks around until he spots his opening. He bolts for the side door and bursts through. He hears a cry of surprise, then someone raises the alarm, but he is already sprinting around the corner.

He is in his element, since most of the time he has spent familiarizing himself with the neighborhood was after dark, when his odd color is less noticeable. As his grandfather taught him, he uses his size to his advantage, finding narrow passages that slow or bar the advance of his pursuers, and soon he loses them. Breathing hard, he jogs at a less punishing pace until he is outside the city. The night skies are like old friends, the constellations orienting him, and he locates the hidden hollow he and his grandfather found many years ago without any trouble. Exhausted, he sinks into a fitful slumber.

Though it seems any soft noise might herald his mother and grandfather’s arrival, dawn’s light finds him still alone. His stomach growls as the sun creeps higher in the sky, and finally he takes one of the fishing spears out of their emergency cache and catches and prepares his own breakfast. His pride at making breakfast for the family dims as morning turns to noon, finding him still alone. Breakfast for everyone becomes lunch and dinner for him, and still they do not arrive. Night’s fall chills him as he realizes that something must have gone wrong.

And still he is alone.


	2. Chapter 1 - Overcast

I breathed in rapid, shallow breaths, trying to keep cool in the humid heat. A voice sounded above me, fear poorly hidden behind bravado, and I looked up toward the source of the fear. An older lizard stood on the grate that covered half of my pit, a half-circle of toughs around him trapping him against the edge of the drop. One of them let out a scornful laugh and shoved him lightly. He screamed and clutched at his assailant in terror, his wide eyes seeking me below him.

I straightened up and grinned fiercely, beginning to pace against the wall where he couldn’t help but see me. His eyes went even wider and he began pleading with his assailants, stammering apologies and promises, all pretense of bravery gone. This went on for a minute or so, then he fell silent as a set of footsteps approached. I stopped pacing as Danash came into view.

Tall and heavy-set, the crime boss’s warm orange scales were traced with scars. He carried a thick, gnarled cane in one hand, leaning on it heavily when he walked, step-shuffle-clunk, step-shuffle-clunk.

“You told me two weeks, friend. What happened to two weeks? You made many promises. Where is the money?”

“I-I tried, I swear. I have half of it now. Here,” he said, thrusting a leather sack at Danash.

The othe lizard made no move to take the bag. “The agreement was not for half, friend. Tell me why I should not feed you to my demon.” He rapped his cane twice on the stones.

In response, I backed up as much as I could in the narrow pit, then sprinted a few steps and leaped for the grate. My claws scraped off the metal bars under the debtor’s feet. He let out a piercing shriek and fell to his knees, babbling desperately. I made another jump, less powerful, and returned to pacing the wall.

Five minutes later the toughs escorted the lizard out, lightened by one bag of coin and burdened by more interest on his owings. Danash tapped his way to the edge of the pit as they exited and regarded me for several seconds. I met his piercing gaze with my own.

“That’s it for today. You can come on up. Your pay’s on the table.”

I walked over to the door tucked under the grate-covered side of the pit, then spun back to the far wall. I sprinted and leapt, kicking off the wall and twisting, and caught the edge of the pit under one elbow and the grate with the other hand. One good heave and I was sitting on the floor. I grinned up at Danash’s surprise, noting with satisfaction a hint of alarm in the expression.

“Always a pleasure doing business,” I said, standing more sedately and offering him a playful half-bow.

He eyed me with reproach. “The stairs work fine, you know.”

_Yeah, but it’s important you remember this is all just an act._ I shrugged and snagged my money off the side table. “That way’s more fun, though.” I threw my cloak on and slipped out the door, glancing back one last time to see him shaking his head.

Our arrangement—protection and pay for me in return for a good act to help him squeeze more money out of his clients—benefited us both, but I’d be a fool to think he never considered actually imprisoning me so he could increase his profit margin. It didn’t hurt to remind him once in a while that it wasn’t worth it.

I stepped out onto wet cobbles, the fallen rain already warm from the day’s heat and beginning to evaporate. The faint mist was good, helping to obscure me from passing glances, so I hurried my pace to take advantage of it before it fully dispersed. As I left the back alleys and turned onto a broad thoroughfare, I ducked my head to let my hood fall a bit lower.

Despite the recent rain, the heat was oppressive, the humidity pervasive, and I attracted no attention on my way home. I slipped through the crack in the wall that served as my door, wincing as my chest scraped. _Need to widen this a bit,_ I thought, rubbing the affected spot, and added the day’s earnings to my hidden stash of coins in the half-rotted ceiling.

I pulled out the leftovers from my breakfast and forced them down, grimacing at the lukewarm, moldering taste, then flopped down on my bed to doze through the afternoon’s heat. When I fully awoke, the light coming in through my cracked, filthy windows was tinged with the orange-gold of late sunset, and the heat was pleasant rather than overbearing. I dug out a handful of small denomination coins for my dinner and began wrapping myself in bandages.

Much as it irked my pride to let people think I had the scabbing plague, I had found it to be the most effective disguise in my kit. The thin ribbons of cloth hid my skin color entirely, and people were afraid to get close or even look too hard at me for fear of catching it themselves. I could even beg for coin if I found myself on lean times, though my damnable pride generally drove me to head to the countryside and hunt for a while rather than debase myself for money.

But begging wasn’t why I was spending an hour wrapping myself in strips of cloth. Tonight I was going out to hunt.

Once I finished wrapping myself from neck to toe, I hooked my short club to my belt and threw my cloak over the lot, adjusting it so the weapon was better hidden by the cloak’s folds. I paused by the exit, reaching into a small crevasse in the crumbling wall and withdrawing a short leather thong with a few beads strung on it. This I tied around my wrist, listening as I did to make sure the alley was empty before slipping out into the gathering darkness.

The bracelet—it had been a necklace when I was small, but now it barely fit on my wrist—was the sole piece of physical evidence I had to prove someone had once loved me. I didn’t dare wear it when I worked for Danash; he would notice it immediately, deduce its value to me, and find some way to use that to his advantage. It killed me to leave it at home, though.

I also thought of it as my conscience, and I never went hunting without it. My grandfather had foreseen that sooner or later I would need to acquire stealth skills to survive. Behind my mother’s back, he taught me from a young age how to pick pockets, but he also taught me to choose my targets responsibly—to look for signs that someone is not as wealthy as they want to appear and not waste my time, and to target those who were cruel to the weak and avoid robbing the charitable.

The disguise helped me with that, too. I continually catalogued the faces of those who gave alms and made sure not to rob them. I also remembered those who kicked the beggars or preyed on them as prime targets. Of course, I wasn’t a scrawny kid any more, and while I still had nimble enough fingers to snatch almost any valuable away from its owner without said owner realizing, people wouldn’t generally let me get close enough to do so. Nowadays I cornered my victims and used force to take what I needed to survive.

I found a corner near where a poor neighborhood met a more affluent one and set up there. For the first hour or so there was nothing of note, wealthy passersby either ignoring me or tossing a few coins into my bowl. I continued to memorize faces as I watched and waited.

A pair of young lizards in expensive finery passed by, and I coughed to prime my “beggar voice,” a dry rasp that made me sound old.

“Please, kind sirs, might you have any coin to spare?”

They slowed as they looked me over, and one smiled. “You poor fellow. I think I could spare you something.” He stepped closer and spat a gob of phlegm into my bowl. His friend laughed at my cry of dismay, and he muttered, “Filthy beggar. Do the world a favor and go die. Somewhere else, preferably.”

I bowed my head, mimicking sadness and hiding a grin. I had my first targets. I watched them walk away, analyzing them for hidden weapons and martial ability, then pulled my bowl close and dumped the coins into a purse I’d stuffed with rags so it wouldn’t jingle. I slipped off at a right angle to their direction of travel, moving fast, then cut across toward them through an alley.

From what I could tell, they didn’t have any weapons on them, and they were young enough they likely had no real fighting experience. They probably knew how to fence, and with two of them they would almost certainly fight back, but a few cracks with my club would convince them that the pain wasn’t worth it. Plus, whatever they had on them would only be a tiny fraction of their full wealth, no great loss to them.

I found the pair and began shadowing them, waiting for other witnesses to clear out or for them to go down a less traveled road. Finally they turned down an alley, one I knew twisted for a ways between walled gardens and estates, and I moved, slinking up stealthily behind them.

“—unbelievable,” one of them was saying as I came close enough to hear.

“You’ll see,” replied his buddy. “Scales as red as blood from crest to toes.”

I froze, my lungs turning to stone in my panic. How? How had they known I was there? They hadn’t even turned around! But they kept walking, apparently oblivious to me, and I finally forced my lungs to move, drawing in a breath. I crept after them, not trying to catch them this time, just listening.

“—not makeup? Or dye, maybe?”

The one who’d spat in my bowl laughed, just loudly enough to make me suspect he was a bit intoxicated. “Believe me, I’d have noticed, the way I had my mouth on her.”

_Her?_ My head spun. Was there another lizard like me? My breathing was coming out in ragged gasps, and I fought to get it back under control.

“—loving it, too. She’s a lusty one and no mistake.”

They walked a few steps in silence. “I’ve got to get into this brothel. How much do they charge for a night with her?”

Phlegm waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not that much. The thing is you have to make a reservation. She’s booked for months. That, and getting in the door in the first place. It’s worth it, though. Trust me.”

My thoughts whirled in mad dances at the possibility that there might be another with a mutation like my own. All thoughts of thievery gone, I followed the pair until they found another main road, then trailed them from a distance, careful not to let them out of my sight. If I lost them in the crowd… I didn’t know what I’d do. Probably have a heart attack.

I trailed the pair onto wider and larger roads, unease growing in me. We were getting close to the Forbidden City, and even at this hour there were guards on patrol, more and more the closer we got. As the high stone wall of the royal palace complex came into view I ducked deeper into my cloak and adopted a limp. I had to get uncomfortably close to my quarry as the crowd grew, people of all kinds filling the spacious plazas and reducing visibility to a few dozen feet.

“You! What are you doing?”

I grunted as something heavy caught me on the chest. I faked a coughing fit and turned to see a guard holding his spear out, butt-first, barring my path. Fury rose in me, hot and blinding as the sun, but I forced it under control.

“There’s no begging here. What is your business?”

“Just passing through, sir. On my way to visit my niece. She’s taken ill—”

“Fine, go on. But I’ll have my eye on you.”

I nodded deeply, my relief that he wasn’t going to beat me dampened as I looked around and saw no sign of the pair I’d been following. I continued forward for the guard’s sake, hoping against hope to spot them, but there were too many people around, most in similarly fine clothing, and I eventually had to concede defeat.

Hope and despondency warred within me as I trudged back home. I hadn’t made any money, and I hadn’t found the brothel the two kin had spoken of. But I had a rumor and a place to start looking. Now all I needed was a way to narrow down the search.

* * *

I pored for one last time over my makeshift map, mosaicked together out of scraps of paper, parchment, and vellum I’d been able to scavenge or steal. It showed all the buildings for several blocks near the plaza where I’d lost my lead on the rumored red-scaled woman. As far as I could tell, my quarry must have been near their destination, so I had spent the intervening few weeks stealthily canvassing their projected path and assembling this map, covering it in notes and marking out buildings as I ruled them out as possible locations for an exclusive brothel.

Such a brothel must necessarily have some means of controlling who entered, allowing me to narrow my search to relatively few buildings right off the bat. Further trips through the area let me mark off buildings with clear purposes, plus some with large windows through which I could clearly see a lack of brothel-like accoutrements. That left me with a mere three possibilities, and since two of them had utilitarian, plain construction and the third much more elaborate architecture, I dared to hope that I had found my mark.

A few evenings spent watching those who entered and left the building had bolstered my hope; while the pair of kin I’d followed didn’t show up, the majority of visitors had been wealthy-looking males. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was a high enough likelihood that I was willing to make my next move.

That was why I was up at this ungodly hour, when the sun’s watery predawn light was just appearing. The tavern- and brothel-goers were mostly abed or incapacitated, and more industrious folk were only just beginning to rise.

I scanned my notes one last time and, satisfied I hadn’t missed anything, turned to the exit. I paused, fingering the beads of my old necklace, and reluctantly tucked it into its hiding place. Then I slipped out into the cool of early morning.

I thought as I traveled about where such a brothel might keep a prized whore like what the one lizard had described. Somewhere safe, of course, which meant either the basement or high up. If she were valued and appreciated, it would be high, a tower or one of the top floors, but if she were more of a prisoner, the basement was more likely. I decided to begin my search with a quick and quiet perimeter at the base of the building while the streets were still empty, then, if I found no sign of her, climb the building and hope nobody looked up.

I approached the building from the side, expecting that the front entrance would be guarded at all hours. Glancing around to be sure no one was paying attention to me, I crouched down to peer in the first window. The narrow aperture had a sturdy metal grate in front of the glass, and peering through this I saw a lizard woman sleeping on a cot in a squalid room. I grinned. She wasn’t red, but she was a good indication that this might well be a brothel. Other windows on the lowest level revealed a variety of people, all species and both sexes, though no red lizards. It was enough evidence to make it worth risking a climb, though.

The building had clearly been designed to prevent intrusion. The windows were too narrow for any but the most slender and flexible people to squeeze through, and despite the beautiful architecture, handholds were few and generally found together, near windows and the places where the stories were joined. But I had come prepared. I pulled out a handful of metal spikes and began to climb.

I decided to work from the top down, so I climbed straight to the roof, only glancing in the windows I passed on the way. Once on the roof, I looked around. There was only one tower, looking out over the nearest plaza, and I grimaced. Well, better to do it before it got any brighter. I glanced in the one window I could see from the roof, finding an opulent but empty room. From the way the massive, richly appointed bed dominated the room, I could tell I’d found the luxury rooms.

I peered over the lip of the roof, verified that no one was admiring the architecture, and drove in my first spike. I moved more slowly, taking care not to look down. The lower set of windows revealed more empty opulence, and, hope beginning to wilt, I moved up to the higher level of the tower.

These rooms were somehow even more luxurious, and I shook my head in disbelief. One piece of furniture from this room would feed me for years. Still pondering the inequity of life, I made my way to the second window. To my surprise, this one was caged with elegant, elaborately tooled bars, and the glass pane within was mostly open. Heart beating faster, I craned up to peer in.

There was someone moving around inside, a kin female by the height, and I leaned closer to get a better look. She turned, and I saw a flash of scarlet.

_I found her!_ For a moment my grip went slack, and I tilted perilously, scrambling for a new grip at her sill.

She straightened at the noise, and I held my breath. “Damn rats are back,” she muttered, and for several seconds I was lost in the warm, sweet alto of her voice, not comprehending the words until she turned and strode over to the window.

She could hardly miss me there, and I knew the moment she saw me, her eyes going wide. She drew in a deep breath.

“Wait!” I gasped, and released one of my handholds long enough to toss my hood back and expose my face.

The breath that would have been a shout for help came out instead as a somewhat undignified squeak, and she reeled back a step. For a moment we just stared at each other, wonder on her face and in my breast, and I felt an instant, deep connection, like a feeling of recognition. She blinked and shook her head, scattering the moment.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you even _get_ here?”

I had to clear my throat to speak. “I heard about you and had to find you.”

She risked coming closer to the window and peered out, as though her tower might have somehow sunk to ground level overnight, and recoiled again when she saw my wrappings.

“Get away from me! I can’t get sick!” She looked alarmed, horrified, and I shook my head quickly.

“It’s just a disguise. To hide my skin. Here—” I leaned down and rearranged my spikes so I could stand in front of the window, then quickly began unspooling the bandages from my hand, exposing my skin to the elbow. “See?” I said, showing her the arm, and she came cautiously closer.

“Sorry,” she said after inspecting me carefully. “It’s just that I—” She broke off, looking at the floor. “All things considered, I have a pretty good life. But if I ever got sick, especially with something as contagious as the scabbing plague, they’d turn me out on the streets.” She looked at me again, anxious. “I’d never survive. I don’t know how you managed.”

I smiled. “I’d love to tell you. But, ah, is there any way I could come in? Just so I’m not hanging here when someone decides to look up.”

She shook her head. “The bars are way too narrow, and I can’t leave this room.”

Fury pooled in my gut, and I had to control my voice when I spoke. “Are you a prisoner?”

“No, I mean, it’s for my protection.” Seeing something in my face, she smiled. “It’s not so bad. They take good care of me, and I’m safe here.”

The part of me that felt an instant, deep connection to her the moment I laid eyes on her recoiled at that, unable to accept having a part of my soul imprisoned like this. But she seemed at ease, so I let it drop for now.

“My name is Emirys,” I told her, changing the topic for both of our sakes.

“I’m Atika.” She smiled sweetly and shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. Another red lizard. Look, I’m shaking.” She held out a trembling hand.

I tried to reach through the bars to steady her, but the gaps were too small for my hand. Frustrated, I curled my hand around the bars so my fingers at least could reach inside.

“I feel it too,” I confessed. “I came here hoping to find you, and I still nearly fell off the wall when I first saw you.”

She laughed, and the joyous sound buoyed my heart.

“So how _did_ you get up here?”

I shrugged. “I climbed.”

She looked at me in amazement. “How? It’s nearly a sheer wall!”

I grinned. “Patience and skill. I wouldn’t have survived this long without the strength and dexterity to scale a few walls.”

“I suppose not,” she said, leaning against the window frame. “Gods, I… I feel like I know you, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

I waved a hand, trying to approximate a bow without falling to my death. “Ask me anything, whatever you want to know.”

Her eyes roved over my face. “What was your childhood like?”

“It wasn’t too bad. I grew up with my mother and her parents. I never knew my father—my mother did not react well to the subject, and my grandfather later told me he’d tried to have her kill me at birth. He—my grandfather, I mean—was the best father figure I could hope for, though. He taught me almost everything I know.” I absently reached for my bracelet, grimacing when I remembered I’d left it at home. “My grandmother was nice, I remember that much. She used to bake pies or pastries every day for me. She died when I was pretty young, though. And my mother, she always seemed sad. Sometimes I wonder if she regretted leaving my father to save my life. But she was always good to me. I always knew she loved me more than anything.” I blinked moisture out of my eyes. I hadn’t thought much about my family in a long time, mostly because the memories were often painful. But I wanted to share this part of me with Atika.

“What happened to them? Are you still living with them?”

“No. There was a mob when I was thirteen. They set our house on fire. I managed to escape, but they got my mother and grandfather. I’ve been on my own since.”

“How terrible,” she whispered, and I pulled a smile together.

“It’s not that awful. As long as I disguise myself, I have free run of the city. I even have a job of sorts, a guy that uses me to frighten his debtors. It’s not glamorous, but it’s a life.” She still looked sad. “What about you? Did you have a family?”

She shook her head slowly. “I never knew them. I don’t know if they abandoned me, or sold me, or just died. I grew up here. When I was young, I would do simple chores around the place, and some of the prostitutes would play with me. As I grew older, I was expected to do more and more work to earn my keep. Then one day Rashid—he’s the owner—told me that he’d found someone who would pay to sleep with me, and if I agreed I’d never have to work another day.” She laughed, bitter. “I was young at the time, and I hated doing chores and errands all day. I agreed, and I’ve been here ever since.”

I absorbed this all for a moment. “Do you regret it?” I asked gently.

“Yes and no,” she replied. “I wish I’d had the strength to tell him no, or just leave. But he was almost like a father to me. He’s taken care of me since before I can remember. And no, because I’m older and wiser now. I’m sure he brought me here from wherever I’d been living before with the express intent of making me an exotic, high-class whore. If I hadn’t given in, he’d have eventually forced the issue, and I’d be a lot worse off.”

Again my fury rose at the way she’d been treated, trapped. Again I mastered it for her sake.

“How did you hear about me, anyway?”

I gestured at my bandages. “Sometimes I act like a beggar, to find rich folks who like to hurt the other beggars, and…” I smirked, “force them to be more charitable. If you get my meaning. I was following two such fine, upstanding gentlemen when I overheard them speaking of you. So, instead of taking their money, I followed them.”

She stared at me, wide-eyed. “But that must be so dangerous!”

“Not as much as you’d think,” I assured her. “I keep the bandages on so they won’t see my skin, and most of the time they’re so worried about catching the scabbing plague they give me their money just so I won’t touch them.”

“Do you… hurt people?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, surprised by the shame my confession brought out. “That’s why I target cruel people exclusively. If it comes to violence, they’re just getting a taste of their own medicine.”

Atika studied me as I spoke, and when I finished she nodded, seeming relieved. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t like to think of you hurting people. It’s a little better if they deserve it, I guess.”

I dropped my gaze to my hands. “It was my grandfather who taught me to pick my targets wisely. But there was a while—after I lost my family—I was so bitter and angry that I just lashed out indiscriminately. After what happened with the mob, it felt like everyone was evil and cruel and deserved to suffer.”

I looked up at a soft touch on my cheek. Atika had managed to slip her more slender hand through the bars and reach me, and my heart melted at the tender gesture. I gently laid my hand over the back of hers and went on.

“Of course, it wasn’t just out of good conscience that he taught me to pick my targets carefully. It wasn’t too long before I got nabbed by a thief-taker. But I was lucky; once he got a good look at me he seemed to understand why I was picking pockets. I think he could also see that turning me in would be a death sentence for me. He lectured me sternly about my poor choice of target and told me if he ever caught me again he wouldn’t let me go a second time.” I smiled at her concerned look. “Needless to say I was more careful after that. That encounter was all I needed to get my life back on track.”

“Your life sounds much more exciting than mine,” she sighed. “But more dangerous, too. You must be more careful, Emirys. I know we’ve barely met, but I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Her words pierced my heart, and I nodded slowly. “Well, now I have someone to live for. That makes it easy.” I glanced up, measuring the angle of the sun. “And on that topic, I had better go. This tower won’t be silhouetted against the sun much longer.” I released her hand, but she clung to me a moment longer.

“Thank you for finding me,” she said, gazing at me earnestly. “Just knowing you live makes life more bearable. I am… so glad to have met you.”

I gave her a grin. “You think I won’t be back? Nothing could keep me away from you.”

A chuckle burst from her, and she poked my shoulder. “You promised to be careful.”

“I will be!” My smile faded, and I gave her a serious look. “Hey, if you ever do get thrown out, or you decide to leave and don’t know where to go, ask after Danash. He’ll be able to put you into contact with me, and I’ll take care of you. It won’t be glamorous, but it beats starving or being stoned.”

She looked uncertain, and I gave her another smile.

“Remember the name, just in case. Danash,” I repeated. She nodded. Before she could withdraw her hand, I caught her fingertips in a gentle grip and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Until next time, my lady,” I said, giving her a wink as I pulled out and reset one of my spikes, stepping closer to the building’s flat roof.

“Until next time,” she agreed. “Remember, be careful.”

_I will,_ I promised her from the depths of my heart.


	3. Chapter 2 - Sunbeam

Panting lightly, I walked slowly up the cramped staircase from the pit to the main level of Danash’s headquarters. Opening the door, I paused on seeing he hadn’t left my pay on the side table like he generally did. Instead, he was holding the bag in his free fist.

I approached him cautiously. He did not let me come within about a yard of him; it was one of the conditions of my employment and the reason he left my money somewhere for me to grab. I stopped well outside the required distance and waited.

His flat stare morphed into a scowl. “What’s gotten into you, boy? Did you catch a blow to the head or something? I’ve not seen such piss-poor acting since the last time I went to the theater.”

_Great._ I thought I’d managed to play it cool, but apparently visiting Atika this morning had messed my head up more than I’d realized. I dropped my gaze to the floor, hoping penitence would satisfy him enough that he wouldn’t pry. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Not good enough.” I looked up to see him raking me with his too-perceptive gaze. “If you’ve got something going on that’s gonna ruin your performances, then it’s my business, too.”

Much as I wanted to tell him to mind his own business and walk off, I couldn’t afford to lose the money or the goodwill. I sighed, feeling my shoulders slump. “I’m just in love,” I told him wearily. “It’ll pass.”

“Pah,” he spat. “Bad idea, boy.” He looked me up and down. “Doubly so for you, I’d say.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I grumbled.

He sighed, audibly irritated, and threw the pouch at me, hard. “Don’t let it happen again. Go get yourself a whore or something.”

I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that, and he peered more closely at me in response.

“Good gods, boy, don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a _whore._ ” Whatever he saw in my face didn’t reassure him, and he rubbed his forehead. “Don’t be a fool. You’ll just wind up heartbroken and be useless to me again.”

I shrugged. “Not like I can pay any whore enough to ignore this,” I said, indicating my coloration. “I’ll try to keep the pining to a minimum.” I turned to go, then paused. If he knew that much already, maybe I should just tell him the rest. I’d have to make it worth his while, though.

“Look,” I said, trying to untangle my thoughts, “if a woman with red scales ever comes around asking for me, please help her find me. If you’ll extend your protection to her, too, I’ll work for you for half my current pay.”

He shook his head, and I cursed myself for taking the risk, but he just said, “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? Fine, you don’t have to worry that I’ll lock her up and use her against you. But if she leaves your dumb ass, the deal doesn’t end, got it?”

“I understand, sir.” I turned and left him shaking his head over the folly of youthful love. I walked most of the way home before diverting my course to a nearby market. There I bought a good-sized bag of salt and a smaller one of sugar, as well as a length of red ribbon. I took it all home with me and began packing for an overnight trip.

As my conversation with Danash had made plain, I needed to get my head on straight. I was going to have a rough night already, knowing the other half of my soul would be sleeping with a parade of people, none of whom were me, and while I normally loved the hurried energy of the city, tonight I needed quiet. I also needed food, so I figured I might as well take a short hunting trip.

Ordinarily I would wait until the day began to cool off, closer to evening, before setting out, but today I had to make a special stop. I slipped out as the sun reached its zenith. The heat was oppressive, but the roads were almost deserted, the city about as quiet as it ever got. I made my way toward the Forbidden City, detouring past flower gardens until I found the perfect specimen—a vibrant red poppy in full bloom. I made for the brothel, scaled it stealthily, and risked a peek inside. Atika was, as most people were at this hour, asleep, and for a moment I just drank her beauty, the rich gift of her existence, in. I tied the poppy to the bottom of the grate with a bit of the ribbon I’d bought and climbed back down, heading out of the city.

Once I neared my destination I began setting traps for small game. That done, I located the strawberry patch I’d been journeying toward and picked everything that was anywhere near ripe, packing the lot in the sugar. As evening colors began to streak the sky, I built a fire and checked my traps, cleaning and dressing my catch by firelight and spreading it on sticks by the fire to cook. I ate my fill and laid out under a blanket of stars.

Gods, I wished I could be the one in Atika’s bed right now. But even if I could afford a night with her, it would never be enough. I needed her free, and my heart told me that if she ever tasted true freedom, she’d never again settle for less.

That grate had to go. Maybe I could find a way to cut it free and then hang it in place so it looked like it hadn’t been tampered with. But if someone leaned against it, they’d figure out pretty quickly that it wasn’t secure. Maybe I could make some kind of bracket to hold it, something removable, or with a latch.

I fell asleep while poring over the problem, waking with the birds at dawn. I scattered dirt over the remains of my fire, packed most of the meat in the salt, and headed back to the city, eating my breakfast as I walked.

I moved briskly, stowing everything at my home and hurrying to get to work on time. Danash was lying in wait for me, and he looked me over when I arrived. After a moment of scrutiny, he nodded.

“First one should be here any minute.”

I held in a sigh of relief; apparently I was doing a better job of keeping it together this morning. I jogged down the stairs, trying to put Atika from my mind and focus on my work. My efforts were at least partially successful, though the morning seemed to drag on forever. Danash let me go with a grunted “better,” and I took my earnings home. I dug out my burglary tools, pocketing a large file. I grabbed lunch at a market stall, then swung by the docks and appropriated an unguarded length of rope.

Now that I had everything I needed, I turned my steps toward the brothel. I didn’t hurry, eager though I was to see Atika again; I needed to wait until the hottest part of the day, when the crowds, always thick near the Forbidden City, would be at their thinnest, when people wouldn’t want to linger outside. So I walked slowly, taking in the sights, the energy of the city around me, enjoying my food as I strolled.

Finally I arrived. I tried to look like I was just resting in the shade, concealing my impatience until the back alley cleared out and I was free to make my ascent. I scaled the building quickly, then, before moving on to the tower, I took a moment to fashion my rope into a sort of makeshift hanging seat. Once at Atika’s window, I tied it to the grate and sat in it, pulling the file out to test the metal of the grate. I worked slowly, trying to minimize the noise it made, but even with my care Atika stirred after a while.

“Emirys?” she called softly, voice muzzy from sleep, and I grimaced.

“I had hoped not to wake you.”

She stood and came to the window, peering out to see what I was doing. “It’s fine. I was sorry to have missed you the other day.”

“Just as well, or I would have been late getting out of the city to go hunting.”

“You mean…” she began, eyes going wide, and I shook my head.

“Small game. I picked strawberries too. Speaking of,” I grinned and pulled out a small jar. “For you.”

As I’d hoped, the tiny jar fit through the bars without trouble, and Atika studied it.

“What is it?”

“Strawberries and sugar. Tonight or tomorrow I’ll make the rest into preserves, but they’re best fresh.”

“Thank you.” She cradled the jar in her hands for a moment, then tucked it into a drawer and returned to the window. “So, what are you doing?”

“Inspecting your grate,” I said.

“And?”

“Well, there’s a problem with it.” I grinned at her concerned look. “It’s in my way.”

She laughed, tension releasing as she realized I was teasing her. “So what are you going to do about that?”

My smile dropped away. “Good question. This is good, high-quality iron. I could file through it, eventually, but once I did there’d be no way to make it look like it hasn’t been tampered with. It doesn’t look like I can get in this way.”

She nodded, looking past me into the distance. “If you wanted to, I’m sure you could come to work here. Rashid would probably love to have a complete set,” she added with a hint of bitterness, and looked me in the eye. “It’s not an exciting life, but it’d be safe, and I’m sure we could be together.”

I hesitated. Trade my freedom to be with Atika? Tempting as the thought was, it would be a steep price to pay. “Maybe,” I said. “I don’t think I’d survive long in captivity, though.”

She nodded, not seeming surprised by my answer.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’m nothing if not good at finding creative solutions. And,” I added, smiling gently at her, “I’ve got all the motivation I need.”

She smiled back at me, but there was a reticence to the expression, a shuttered look to her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Obviously not,” I chided her.

She sighed and leaned back against the wall beside the window, putting her face in her hands.

I cursed my insensitivity. “Atika? Would you rather I left you alone?”

She was silent for a while. “I don’t know, Emirys. It might be for the best. But it’s not what I want, not really.” She turned back toward me and put her fingers over mine where they gripped the grate. “I want to listen to stories about your family, or what your life is like. I want to hear about all the places you’ve seen. I want to see the world through your eyes. But I’m too afraid to leave and see it with you.”

Relief flooded me with her words. If she had told me not to come back, I would have tried to obey her wishes. I wasn’t sure I’d really be able to stay away, though, knowing where she was. But it saddened me that she was satisfied with this meager existence. I resolved to find a way to give her a taste of freedom. If she tried it and still preferred her gilded cage… well, maybe I’d take her up on her offer and become a whore myself. _At least then I might finally get laid._

“What would you like to hear about today, then?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Something funny, maybe.”

I grinned. “Let me tell you about the time I got lost in the aqueducts.”

Her eyes rounded, and one graceful hand rose to cover her mouth.

“I was about four years old, and my grandparents’ house was in the old part of town, with the old ducts. They kept the outlet covered up with a thick board, but apparently I had grown strong enough to move it, just enough to squeeze through without actually moving it out of place…”

* * *

I was on my way home from my daily visit with Atika, just leaving the large plaza near her home, when I felt stealthy fingers brush my hip. _Oh, no you don’t,_ I thought darkly. I paused, peering about as though suspicious, catching the would-be thief at the very edge of my peripheral vision. Not a child, by the height, but a nearly-grown adolescent.

I pretended to be satisfied with my glance around and moved on. Once I felt the thief reach for my purse again, I slipped my own arm around the other side of him, locating an odd-shaped bundle and gently tugging it free. I let the thief steal off with my rag-stuffed purse and the few coins left over from my lunch as I slipped the bundle under my cloak and continued home as though nothing had transpired.

Once safely in my home, I unwrapped the leather-bound package to see what spoils he’d had. _Hopefully worth more than a handful of change._ My eyes went wide as the bundle fell open.

The package had been light enough that I hadn’t expected much, but the wealth before me served as a powerful reminder that not all valuables were heavy. Delicate rings and necklaces spilled into my lap, along with small colored motes I didn’t recognize that glowed with the unmistakable gleam of magic. I unrolled a sheaf of papers, my eyebrows rising higher with each spell scroll I peeled off the roll.

_Seven above, this must be worth a small fortune!_ Either this thief had just pulled off a big score or three, or he carried his valuables around with him under the belief that no one could steal from him the way he stole from others. Looking at the riches before me, I felt a little bad for taking it. But, I reminded myself, it wasn’t likely I could track the thief down even if I really wanted to return it. _He’ll learn an expensive lesson about overconfidence, at least._

I realized it was going to take me a long time to sell all of this. The jewelry would be the hardest; in order to sell it with a sob story I’d need to show my face, so I’d have to use Danash’s fence. He’d take a cut of the profits, but so would any other fence, and at least I wouldn’t have to worry about being decried as a demon and stoned. For the moment, I hid each piece of jewelry in a different niche in my house. Even if someone found some of them, they’d never find them all.

I did the same with the tiny magical orbs, though I kept one of the smallest in my purse for the fence to identify for me. The scrolls would be a lot easier to sell, fortunately. They were common enough not to draw attention while still being rare and useful enough to be valuable. And, unlike a piece of jewelry which could be identified by its creator’s stamp and any unique design features, all scrolls were by necessity identical; if they weren’t, they wouldn’t work.

I sorted through them, arranging them by their rarity and the price I could expect to get for them. I paused in my sorting, frowning down at a pair of teleportation scrolls, then smiled as an idea occurred to me. _I don’t need to sell all of these, I suppose…_

* * *

It took a week of preparations before I was ready to enact my plan, and then I had to wait for a morning when Danash didn’t have much or any work for me. It felt like forever, but finally the day came; Danash dismissed me after meeting with just one debtor. I couldn’t completely hide my grin as I grabbed my day’s pay. Danash shook his head but didn’t say anything as I hurried out the door. I spent the remainder of the morning getting everything set up and praying that Atika would agree to my plan.

Finally the sun reached its zenith and the heat drove the masses indoors. I strolled through deserted streets with a bounce in my step, humming a tune that had gotten lodged in my head. I had a pair of teleportation scrolls in my pocket, which felt like the keys to the world.

Every good thief knew the value of a teleportation spell. Is that enticing valuable out of reach? Bring it closer! Can’t get through an iron grate to burglarize that business? Now you can! But, besotted fool that I was, that wasn’t what I planned to do with the scrolls. No, I still hoped that I could convince Atika to run away with me.

To that end I made my usual stealthy way up the side of the building. Atika was waiting for me, sitting in a chair she’d dragged over by the window. Nervousness fluttering in my gut, I smiled up at her.

“Hey.”

Like a still-life portrait coming to life, she stirred, brightened, and smiled at me. “Emirys, you made it.”

“Of course.” I grinned. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m all right. It was a long night, but seeing you always makes my day.” Her smile broadened, her eyes sparkling. “So, do you have a story for me today?”

“I’ve got one better than that, if you’re interested.” I slipped my fingers into my belt pouch and pulled out the scrolls. “I managed to get some teleportation scrolls.”

“How?” She held out a hand, shaking her head. “Never mind, better I don’t know.”

“Nothing terrible,” I assured her. “Someone tried to pick my pocket. I just returned the favor. I’ve got two of them, one to get you out and another so you can get back in without anyone ever knowing you were gone.”

She stared at me, eyes gone wide. I braced myself for her response.

“Emirys, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say you’ll think about it. We could go today if you want to, but these will keep. Take all the time you need.” I covered my nervousness with a grin. “If you decide you don’t want to slip out for an afternoon, I can always find another use for them, or sell them. But I’d rather give you this.”

She pressed close to the grate, looking out at the city. After a few seconds, she turned back to me and narrowed her eyes. “You have a plan, don’t you?”

I ducked my head modestly. “It seems you are coming to know me a little too well. Of course I do.” Her expression invited me to elaborate. “I thought that I might set you down across the plaza, in that alcove.” I pointed to a small, well-hidden nook that was more visible from above than ground level. “I climb down and meet up with you, and take you to see something neat.”

“What?” she asked, and I smiled mysteriously.

“It’s something I found a couple of years ago. It’s beautiful, it’s private, and no one else knows about it. As soon as I remembered it, I knew I had to take you there.” Atika gave me a sharp look, but a hint of a smile took all the sting out of the expression. “Anyway, we spend the afternoon there, then come back, you get into the alcove again, I climb back up here and drop you into your room, with no one the wiser.”

She looked thoughtful, and hope kindled in my heart. “It’s been so long since I’ve been outside,” she said slowly. “I don’t know…”

I took a deep breath to remind her there was no rush.

“Seven’s sake,” she muttered, “what’s wrong with me? When did I get so timid?” Her eyes locked onto mine, and she gave me a fierce grin. “Let’s go. What do I need to do?”

“Well, if you’ve got a cloak, you might want to wear it. There aren’t a lot of people about, but we stand out, the two of us.”

She went to an ornate wardrobe and withdrew a fine cloak, tossing it over her shoulders and raising the hood. “Better?”

“For our purposes, yes. Are you ready?”

She nodded, then gave me an exasperated look when I hesitated. “Do it, Emirys!”

I laughed and unrolled the scroll. I read the incantation and made the gestures, and a swirling portal pulled Atika away. The scroll flared bright with magic, then crumbled to ash in my hands, and I looked anxiously at my intended destination, sighing in relief as I saw a cloaked figure there, just standing up. I climbed down as fast as I could and made my way to her.

She was clutching the edges of her cloak and looking about anxiously, though she seemed to relax somewhat when she saw me. Standing before me, with no barrier between us, she seemed somehow unreal, and I paused, just gazing at her.

“What?”

I came closer and took her hand gently, reverently. “Dearest Atika,” I said softly, “there were days I believed this moment would never come. That I would never be able to reach out and take your hand, never have more anything more than a dream of holding you. Forgive me if I savor this moment.”

She laughed and squeezed my hand. “Oh, Emirys, must you always be so dramatic? You promised to show me something, but you wouldn’t tell me what. How long will you leave me in suspense?”

“Only a few minutes longer,” I promised her, smiling. “Come on, this way.” I led her a few blocks down the street, away from the Forbidden City, ducking into an empty store. In the back was a hatch in the floor, covered by a slab of sandstone. I slid this aside and ducked into the old aqueduct, locating by touch the torch and flint I’d stashed there earlier. Once the torch was lit, I poked my head out.

“Come in,” I told Atika. “It’s tall enough to walk inside.”

She stepped in cautiously, and I led her through the dusty old waterways until we reached a particular arch. Most of the exits we’d passed had been sealed up with stone slabs or wooden boards, but this one was filled by a thick block of marble.

“Watch this,” I told her, unable to hide my grin, and triggered the hidden switch I’d found years ago. The marble slid smoothly back and then to the side, and we stepped through.

Atika’s mouth dropped open as the torch illuminated an intricate mosaic floor, finely carved stone reliefs and murals, and a hint of high, vaulted ceilings.

“What _is_ this place?” she whispered.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I said, “but I think it used to be part of the Forbidden City. It’s closed off completely; the only way I found in or out is here, through the old aqueducts. Which reminds me…” I hit the switch on the inside, and the block slid ponderously back into place. “People occasionally travel through these ducts, and we aren’t entertaining company this afternoon.”

I led Atika through the room, lighting the lamps I’d set up as we went so we could admire the beautiful artwork. The ornate room was mostly bare of furnishings, but a few well-stuffed chairs and chaises had been left; these were now free of dust and covered by pillows I’d bought or acquired. After our tour of the room I led her to these, where I had some food and chilled water laid out.

“How did you ever find this place?”

“Well, I sometimes use these defunct aqueducts to get about, especially if I’m carrying valuables or trying to avoid guards. Like I said before, I’m not the only one who does so. A couple of years ago, I was passing by this duct when I heard someone coming from the other direction. I was young then, not full grown, and I was worried whoever it was would rob me and take my spoils, so I began looking for a place to hide. Of course, you saw what the ducts there are like. There’s nothing on this stretch but this arch. So I scrambled around, trying to get the block to budge, and managed to find the switch.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. Probably saved me a beating. And I didn’t have a light at the time. The only hints I had that this was something special was that big chunk of marble and the feel of a mosaic under my feet. I came back later with a torch; that’s when I realized what I’d found.”

Atika looked around the room again. “It’s so beautiful,” she sighed. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Yes,” I murmured, my eyes on the lovely woman before me. “Beautiful indeed.” She noticed my gaze and laughed, shoving my shoulder. I grinned in response before turning serious. “I’m serious, you know, about no one else knowing about this place.”

“How do you know?”

“Here,” I said, tugging her to her feet, “come look at this.” I brought her over to a bas-relief of the Seven. “Look at their eyes.”

“How did they make them sparkle like that?” She touched the inlaid stones with a fingertip.

“By using gemstones,” I said. “Emeralds,” I pointed, “sapphires, onyx, garnet. I’m not sure of the others. Some of the other reliefs have gems in them, too. If someone had found this place, they would have pried these out and sold them.”

“Why didn’t you? I’m glad you didn’t, of course, but I know your life has been difficult. These could have made it much easier.”

I shrugged. “I thought about it. But,” I felt my face warm and was grateful my coloration hid all blushes, “I couldn’t bring myself to destroy this beautiful artwork just to live more comfortably. If I were ever in a bind, I might have taken a few to keep myself alive, but I generally just go hunting if thievery doesn’t keep me fed.” I smiled. “If I weren’t such a city boy at heart, I could survive indefinitely in the wilds, hunting and avoiding people.”

She continued to admire the walls, and I was extra glad I hadn’t defaced the art. She seemed to enjoy it even more than I did. When we returned to the chairs, Atika sat down on a chaise, and to my surprise, she drew me onto it beside her. My heart raced as I took her into my arms for the first time. She fit perfectly against me, as I somehow had always known she would, and for a long moment I simply breathed in her sweetness.

After a few minutes of just holding one another close, Atika shifted in my arms, raising her head and twisting to get on top of me. I found myself suddenly gazing into her deep amethyst eyes, and the wicked smile on her lips set my heart pounding. I blushed invisibly again as she bent her graceful neck and kissed me.

I had never been kissed before in my life, so I did my best to follow her lead, praying to the Seven that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. I was on fire by the time she drew back, with an ache in my belly and a growing erection that I had to adjust.

“Emirys,” she breathed, and I reached up to cup her cheek in one hand.

“First kiss,” I said with a self-effacing smile, and her eyes went wide. I laughed. “For some reason, women aren’t lining up to bed the guy who at worst could be a demon, or at best has some genetic defect.”

Her eyelids lowered to partially cover her eyes. “That would change if you came to live with me, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved a hand. “All in the presentation, I suppose. But then I could never come back here.”

She laughed. “Never say never. I’ve seen the way you move. If anyone could sneak in and out of there, it’s you.” Her smile turned sly, and she slid a hand between our bodies, under my robe, and found the waistband of my pants. She reached under it, and I gasped when her fingers closed around my erection, my body spasming of its own accord and my vision going white for a second. Then she stroked me, once, up and down, and I feared I’d embarrass myself by coming right then.

“Atika,” I gasped, “much as I would dearly love to lay with you, that isn’t why I stole you away.” She stopped, looking down at me with puzzlement. “You are the most precious thing in the world to me, and more than anything I want to make this time special for you. You don’t owe me anything at all, and I’m sure you’d like a break from work, as it were.”

Her expression changed to a tender smile, and she laid her other hand alongside my face. “How did you turn out to be such a romantic, Emirys?” I had to laugh at her teasing exasperation. “Work is about what I have to do. _This_ is about what I _want_ to do. Out of the whole world, it’s you I want to be with. And,” she added, eyes sparkling with mirth, “not just because this may be your only chance to lay with a woman.”

She grew serious again. “Everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve had to do to survive, all of it has been for this moment, this afternoon. So that, in the brief time we’ll have together, I could give you what your birth has denied you. So I could take you to heaven. So I could show you how handsome and loving and wonderful you truly are.” She bent to kiss my forehead. “We were born for each other, Emirys. Let me do what I was born to do.”

I blinked at her through suddenly misty eyes. “Atika… that’s the most beautiful think anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.” I sought words to better explain my abject gratitude, but nothing seemed powerful enough to do my feelings justice. So I ran my hand over her crest, then guided her mouth back to mine and kissed her with all the adoration, all the gratitude, every ounce of passion she inspired in me. I must have done all right, because when we drew apart her eyes were a bit unfocused, her lips parted slightly as she breathed hard.

“Very nice,” she said, her gaze sharpening on me, “but now it’s my turn.” She put her mouth on my neck, just below my jaw, over what I immediately discovered was a sensitive spot. I gasped at the sensation, then again as her hand, still wrapped around my manhood, cranked tight and began to move torturously up and down. I moaned, my hips trying to move with her as though they’d suddenly developed a mind of their own.

Her lips traveled up my neck, pausing just below my tympanum. “You’re outmatched, Emirys,” she whispered. “Outmaneuvered. Your only hope is to surrender… to me.”

I blinked up at her, shivering in pleasure. Normally I had a strategy for every situation, every eventuality… but at the moment my brain simply wasn’t working. I had nothing… and she had experience, knowledge… everything I wanted. I did the only thing I could do. Voice hoarse from desire, I begged, “Command me.”

* * *

“What’s this?” Frowning, I ran a light hand over a scrape on Atika’s knee. She sat up to look at it.

“Oh, just banged my knee when you teleported me earlier. I’d forgotten all about it.”

_Understandable, considering what we were up to._ “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing. I’m far more worried about the noise. We’ll have to mind that when you send me back.”

My heart sank at her words. “So you do want to go back then? There’s no reason to if you don’t want to, you know.”

She took my face in her hands. “It’s a comfortable life, the only life I know. Don’t get me wrong, Emirys; today has been the best day of my life. But I have a life, a home, such as it is, to return to, and so do you.” She kissed me languidly, and for a moment we were lost once again in each other. She took a deep breath as we parted. “Maybe we can do this again someday, or,” a teasing smile curved her lips, “maybe you’ll be so addicted to my charms that you’ll come to live and work with me.”

She did have a point. We were still nude, still tangled in each other; I was completely spent, and I wanted to take her again even so. I sighed, reining myself in.

“Well, we need to get moving, then, before your absence is noticed.”

We dressed reluctantly, and I extinguished the lamps and led the way out.

“Like I was saying earlier,” she said as we walked, “you need to be careful when you set me back in my room. It’s not a quiet spell, and there’s a good chance someone will hear the noise and investigate. I can say I just fell out of bed—which would also explain the knee—but you’ll need to duck out of sight and keep quiet.”

I nodded. “Got it.” _And while I’m at it, maybe I should try not to injure her this time,_ I berated myself.

I left her with a last, lingering kiss in the alcove, then scaled the building quickly. It was a bit later than I’d intended, so I listened at her window for a moment until I was sure all was still. Then I got out the second scroll and cast the spell, aiming to set her down on a soft-looking rug. Even so, she hit with a loud thump, and I winced, praying I hadn’t hurt her worse. I saw her toss a bundle—her cloak—aside as I ducked out of sight, then a few seconds later her door clattered against the wall.

“What was that? Are you all right?” It was a man’s voice.

“I’ll be all right,” Atika responded, sounding annoyed. “I fell out of bed.” A moment of silence. “Damn, I scraped my knee.”

“I’ll send for the healer immediately.” A few seconds later the door latch clicked, and I heard soft footsteps approaching the window.

“Wouldn’t want any blemishes on your main attraction,” Atika muttered darkly, and I raised my head.

“You’ll be all right?” I asked, still a bit concerned, and she smiled.

“In a few minutes there won’t even be any sign I was hurt. If nothing else, they take our health seriously here.” She made a shooing motion. “You need to go, Emirys. The plaza is filling up. I swear, if you get spotted, I don’t know what I’ll do with you…”

Chuckling, I blew her a kiss and made my way down.


	4. Chapter 3 - Radiance

Chapter 3 – Radiance

The next day I was later than usual in visiting Atika, busy working a late morning for Danash. I had a feeling he knew something was different about me, but aside from a series of suspicious looks he didn’t give me any trouble. I climbed the tower and found her asleep in her bed.

_Of course, she probably didn’t get enough sleep yesterday._ Normally, I worked at night like she did, but after my windfall I had the option of taking the night off sometimes, which I’d done last night. She probably didn’t have that choice, though.

I rifled through my pockets for some trinket to leave for her, but before I could find something suitable, she stirred.

“Emirys?”

I smiled at her as she rolled out of bed and came to the window. “Sorry I’m late. It was a busy morning.”

She reached through the bars and touched my face. “To be honest, I didn’t really expect to see you again.”

I gave her a mock-aghast look, covering up the spike of hurt that jabbed through me. “But I still have so many stories to tell you!”

She giggled and pinched my cheek lightly.

“I’d better stick with a short one today, though. You could probably use a nap this afternoon.”

“You’re right about that. But I’ll sleep better with a bedtime story from you.”

Smiling, I told her about a time when, as a young child, I’d absconded with an entire pie, hidden in the basement to eat it, and fallen asleep, my head pillowed on the remaining portion of the pastry. My grandmother had finally noticed the pie’s absence, connected it to mine, and then they’d had to search the house high and low to find me.

By the end of the story she had both hands over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. I left her with a blown kiss, trying to hide how I ached to take her in my arms again. Over the next weeks we fell back into our previous routine, but I could tell that neither of us was satisfied with what little we had. Something had to give.

I had assumed that general discontent was what was troubling her today, but after my first tale she heaved a sigh.

“Something wrong?” I asked her.

“I had a fight with Rashid last night. He still treats me like I’m a child, and I’m sick of it.” She reached out to grip my hand. “I know I’ve encouraged you in the past to come work here, but I’m beginning to think that would be a mistake. I did nothing more than mention how nice it would be to have a lover of my own, and he lost his mind.”

I absorbed this new information with a twinge of disappointment. The idea had begun sounding better and better the longer I went without being able to hold Atika in my arms. Not to mention that my dreams, which had long held nonspecific delights that left me to awaken covered in a sticky mess of semen, now had much more detailed and specific offerings to tease me with, now that I knew exactly what I’d been missing out on all this time. As much as I adored Atika, the longer I went without her, the more I felt that having a different lover—or even a series of clients, like what she had—wouldn’t be too bad, either.

A disturbing thought occurred to me. “He hasn’t made you sleep with him, has he?”

“No. But I’ve developed pretty good instincts about these things. I get the feeling he wants to.”

I shook my head. “I know you kinda see him as a father, but I had enough of a childhood to know that parents want what’s best for their children. It sounds like he just wants what’s best for him.”

She lowered her eyes, seeming unwilling to agree.

“Look,” I said, “how much money do you have saved up?” She gave me a blank look, and I stared back at her in disbelief. “You get paid, right?”

“Well, yeah. I get jewelry, furniture, clothes, artwork. All kind of expensive stuff.”

I felt a powerful urge to find Rashid and hurt him badly. “Do you know how much he charges your clients?” I asked. “Because I have a feeling you see barely any of it. And all of that seems to be in the form of stuff designed to anchor you here.”

She stared at me as realization dawned on her. “Gods damn him,” she whispered, and then shook her head. “Okay, but it’s not as if I could spend the money myself, anyway.”

“If he paid you what you were worth, in coin, you could hire a personal servant to buy whatever you wanted for you and still have money left over,” I told her, a bit heatedly. “I’ve got pretty good instincts about people’s level of wealth, and the kin that I overheard talking about you were quite affluent, not quite princes of a house but probably high-level courtiers or lawyers. That, plus the location of this place here in the heart of the district of law, means they’re charging a lot just for the regular prostitutes. Are _any_ of you allowed to leave?”

“Yes, there’s a schedule for the others so they can visit family or take care of errands, usually one day a week. I don’t take days off because my demand is so high and I don’t feel safe going out alone anyway. It was my choice,” she added with asperity, glaring at me.

I suspected she didn’t realize the extent to which her choice had been influenced, but I held my peace. Even if I was right, she’d have to realize it on her own. “So, you’re not technically a prisoner, but if you decide you want to go work somewhere else, you’re going to be out all that furniture and art, probably most of the clothing. You’re set up so you can’t leave without sacrificing almost everything you’ve gained.”

Her chin dropped, her hands on the grate tightening into fists. “I am a prisoner, aren’t I,” she whispered, and I gently put my hand over hers.

“You were never more a prisoner than when you didn’t know,” I told her softly. “After all, you can’t fix a problem you don’t know exists. You might be able to convince him to pay you in coin, now, or at least angle toward more easily transported and traded things like jewelry and small objets d’art. And,” I grinned, “I’m the sparkler in your sleeve. If there’s something you want that you can’t get, I’ll get it for you. If I can’t steal it, I’ll help you trade for it.”

“I think what I want right now is a knife,” she said tartly, and I laughed.

“If that’s what you really want, then I’ll make it happen. But there are better ways of getting back at him.”

“Like what?” she scoffed, a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Look, if you aren’t a trained knife fighter, you probably won’t kill him before he can disarm you or call for help. So he’ll survive, and you’ll be headed to the courts of law if you’re lucky, or, more likely, locked up in the basement and beaten if you don’t continue to perform for him.

“Now, I’m not a trained killer, but I could probably manage if I could somehow catch him unawares. He’s unlikely to let a stranger close, though. Thing is, kin like him don’t fear death. The kind of lizard who operates an exclusive brothel lives and dies by his reputation. If you give him a big enough black eye, he’ll never recover. Investors and business partners will abandon him, leaving his enterprises to fail.”

The murderous glint had left her eyes, replaced now by a calculating light. “What bigger black eye could this place suffer than losing its most famous whore?” she said slowly, and I grinned.

“If you walk out—or disappear—in a suitably dramatic fashion, it’ll be the talk of the town for weeks.”

“I like it,” she said, a vicious smile curling her lips. “I like it a lot. Right, then, first things first. You said I could have a servant buy me whatever I want? Consider yourself hired.”

I blinked, surprised by the abruptness of her decision and the resolve in her voice. “Uh, okay. But, um, are you really comfortable trusting a self-admitted thief to do your business for you?”

“I trust _you,_ Emirys. Both because I know you love me, and because this means we could be together.”

I laughed. “Smart. You can always trust self-interest.”

She gave me a quick smile as she turned, digging around at the back of a shelf for a moment. She returned with a handful of trinkets, all small enough to pass through the bars.

“Here. Your first task is to buy me a home, somewhere I can live comfortably once I leave this place. Of course, I don’t want the place getting all dusty or full of vermin, so I’ll need you to occupy it in the meantime to keep it in good shape.”

“Atika…” I said, floored, then nearly dropped the small statuette she passed through the bars to me. _Is this thing solid gold or something?_ I carefully stowed the surprisingly heavy object away, then accepted the filigree pendant she held out next. “Look, I appreciate it, but I’m fine where I’m at.”

She gave me an arch look. “I’ll not have it said that I don’t pay my servant a living wage. Plus,” she added with a wicked smile, “once I move in, I’ll want you there to… attend me.” She gave me a smoldering look, and I chuckled, blushing. Tucking away the last trinket she’d handed me, I gave her the best bow I could manage.

“It will be done, Mistress.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, reaching through the bars to take me by the chin and pull my face close. “Mistress. I like that.” Pulling me hard against the metal, she managed to just brush my lips with hers. “Go come up with a plan, and I’ll do the same. If we put both of our minds to the task, we’ll be unstoppable.”

With the taste of her on my lips and the scent of her in my nostrils, I set out, my mind already churning through possibilities.

* * *

The tough manning the door to Danash’s lair looked at me oddly but let me enter. Inside, I made my way toward his office, where he most likely would be at this time of day. Hopefully he hadn’t left already to head to his casino; I wanted to speak with him in privacy, which wasn’t really feasible there.

It seemed I was in luck; his second, Tovash, was lurking outside the door of the office. He gave me a suspicious look.

“What you doing here? Ain’t no more work for ya today.”

“I’d like to speak with Danash,” I said, trying to hide my nervousness. “I think I’ve stumbled onto a big job, and I can’t do it on my own.”

Tovash studied me with narrowed eyes. “Big enough to waste the boss’s time, ya think?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Uh huh. The boss hears a lot of crack-pot job ideas.”

I restrained my temper. “I’ve never come to him with one before. If he doesn’t want to hear it, that’s his loss, but I feel that should be his decision.”

His lips spread in an ugly grin. “Sure, sure. Just don’t be gettin’ too big for yer britches, freak. He’s a busy guy.”

“I’m aware,” I assured him. “I’ll wait on his convenience.” I glanced at the ratty couch in the room, but opted to just lean against the wall instead. I was _not_ getting billed if someone decided it had to be burned because I touched it. Although, with the shape it was in, that might be a good idea anyway.

Tovash disappeared into the office for a good minute, then emerged, eyeballing me as I waited. Fortunately it wasn’t for long; maybe ten minutes later he ducked his head through the doorway, then waved me over.

“He’ll see ya now.”

I edged past him into Danash’s office. The boss was seated behind a heavy, well-used desk, his cane leaning against its edge. There was a chair in front of the desk, but, concerned he would feel that was too close, I stood behind it. Tovash came in, too, settling against the wall behind me. I worked to ignore the prickling in my crest and focused on what I wanted to say.

Danash fixed me with a flat look. “Tovash says you’ve got a scheme.” He tilted his head, studying me. “ _You,_ of all people. I’m not optimistic, but I gotta hear this. You know the drill, right? Everyone gets one free go. After that, you gotta prove return on investment to get back in here.”

On instinct, I decided to forego my carefully planned opening speech, reaching instead into my purse. I heard Tovash shift his weight behind me and winced, making my movements slower. Of course, that made it more dramatic as I slowly withdrew a gold chain festooned with amazingly lifelike gold and gem butterflies. By the time I had lifted it free, Danash was leaning forward, gazing intently at me. At his gesture, I handed it to Tovash, who looked it over and then brought it to him.

I held my breath as he studied it closely, testing the metal with one claw-tip, digging out a loup to inspect the gems. Finally he looked up at me.

“You have my attention, Emirys.”

I took a deep breath. “Near the Forbidden City, bordering Plaza Al-Assad in the district of the Courts of Law, there is an exclusive brothel run by a kin named Rashid.”

I paused as his expression turned thoughtful, and after a second he nodded. “I know the name. He likes to play on both sides of the law.”

_Good, that will make this easier._ If he’d named him as an ally—unlikely, since he had very few of those—I’d probably have to take my proposition elsewhere. Since Rashid was a player in the underground power structure of the city, that meant Danash was in one way or another in competition with him.

“In this brothel there is a prized prostitute, the jewel in its crown. She recently learned that he’s been stiffing her, not paying her near what she’s worth, and she wants to get him back. She wants to leave in a high-profile way and give him a black eye.”

I grinned. “Problem is, she doesn’t have any actual money. He’s been paying her in valuables, but a lot of it is things like furniture that she can’t exactly pocket when she goes. So I’ve gotten her to give me some smaller stuff to sell for her and use the money to help her enact her revenge. But she’s never bought anything in her life. She hasn’t left the brothel in more than a decade. She probably doesn’t even know how much what she’s given me is worth. It’ll be child’s play to skim whatever I want from her funds.”

I had no intention of taking Atika’s money, of course. I felt a little bad at the idea of living in a house she bought. But if I came to Danash with a sob story about getting my lover out of captivity, he’d laugh me out of the building no matter how much she could pay him for his help. If I made it sound like a con, though, and set things up so that he would profit from it, he’d be more than happy to help.

“Sounds like you’re well set up, then. What do you need me for?”

“She’s still figuring out what she wants to do, but I think I can nudge her toward a plan that involves her moving the majority of her valuables temporarily into a rented home. Say,” I added blandly, “one you own? So when she disappears, you’re in position to seize a bunch of goods, maybe even legally if her disappearance results in the rent not being paid.”

“Interesting.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You’ve obviously put some thought into this. What else would you need?”

I waved a hand at the necklace in front of him. “I need help getting the stuff she gives me sold quickly. Most people won’t buy stuff like that from someone who hides their face, which presents a problem for me that others in the organization don’t have. They aren’t even stolen goods, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. So I’d like a few people to work on that, each taking a cut of whatever they can get and then turning the rest over to me so I can keep working on her. That, and some help setting up the big con at the end, so that they’ll move all her stuff to somewhere more accessible, should be all I need.”

Danash nodded slowly, eyes narrowed. I held my breath, praying to the Seven that he’d go for it. But he looked past me to Tovash, nodding toward the door. Before my stomach could sink, though, the other lizard slipped out, leaving me alone with Danash. He stood up, grabbing his cane and walking to the front of the desk, and I retreated a few steps. He leaned heavily against the edge of it and raked me over with his eyes.

“So what is it you’re not telling me?” I grimaced, cursing his keen-as-always perception. “I like this idea you’ve got, and you’ve even gone so far as to present me with something that’s nearly complete. Means less work for me, and that’s unusual. You’ve even got the goods to back it up.” He indicated the necklace, sitting on the desk beside him. “Give me full disclosure, and I’ll give it my seal of approval. Won’t even tell anyone else, unless it concerns them. So?” He cocked his head, and I sighed.

“You ever heard of the Red Harlot?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Rumors. Nothing I’d lend credence to.” He gave me a fish-eyed look. “Are you gonna tell me there’s _two_ of you?”

I nodded solemnly. “I overheard a pair of marks talking about her and followed them, managed to track her down.”

“I’m still not sure I believe it. You sure they aren’t running a con on _you,_ boy?”

“Hah. Not like they stand to gain much if they do. Plus I’ve gotten a pretty good look at her. She’s as red as I am.”

Danash chuckled. “I thought you’d finally gotten laid. Good for you.” I blushed, and he cocked an eyebrow. “You blushing, boy?”

The heat drained from my face, and I stared at him in disbelief. “You couldn’t possibly have seen that.”

“Your stance changed, gave you away.” He chuckled at my discomfiture.

_Right, enough of that._ “Anyway, sir, I did have an idea how to pull off the final stage of the job. Once we’re ready, we start rumors about a wealthy noble coming to the city from far away. Talk about how he’s the only red lizard, and make sure Rashid hears about it. With any luck, he’ll be the one to reach out to us, which mean he won’t be expecting us to con him.”

Danash nodded, giving me an appraising look. “You’ve been paying attention, I see.”

I gave him a brief smile in response. “If this nobleman is known not to visit whorehouses, then Rashid will have to set her up somewhere else in order to capitalize on his unique commodity, and spin some story about her being deeply in debt or something. You know, reframe the prostitution as this noble rescuing her from a bad situation. Assuming she’ll go for my idea, she can be the one to suggest all this. Then I show up and give Rashid what looks like a fortune—I’m sure you’ve got some good counterfeit coin and goods—and, once they leave us in privacy, we just waltz off. Rashid scrambles around trying to find his prize whore, and you make all those valuables disappear. Of course, with all the spectacle, everyone will see him get played.”

Danash chuckled, the sound growing slowly into a full-blown laugh. “My boy,” he said, grinning, “you really _have_ thought this out. This is a side of you I didn’t know existed.” He gave me a thoughtful look. “To be honest, I would have thought you too sentimental to steal from your lady love. And don’t shit me. A blind man could see that you’re head-over-heels.”

I sighed. “If I play my cards right, she’ll be coming to live with me. She’s used to a better life than I can give her now. Even if she’s willing to slum it to stay with me, that’s still an order of magnitude higher than what I’ve got.”

“So you support her with her own money and reap the rewards of her gratitude?”

“Exactly. Anyway, she wouldn’t even know she was being ripped off by Rashid if it weren’t for me. She owes me.”

“And if she finds out, or it’s not enough and she leaves you?”

I spread my hands, adopting a mock-sad demeanor. “Then I’ll have to console myself with my newly gained wealth.” Danash chuckled, and I turned serious. “That’s everything I’ve got. Full disclosure.” I met his eyes, waiting, trying not to hold my breath.

He studied me, gaze calculating, then gave a sharp nod. “I gotta say, Emirys, I wish half the schemes I heard were this solid. You good with the usual fence cut for selling your lady’s valuables?”

I nodded; I’d expected that would be the deal. If I asked for less, there was a possibility some of the valuables might just disappear with nothing to show for it. Ordinarily Danash wouldn’t let something like that fly, but he didn’t treat me the same as the others, and I didn’t want to risk it.

“Good. As for the last job, the big haul, you get twenty percent; the rest goes to the organization and your assistants.”

I hesitated at that, unsure if Atika would be okay with it. But, I reminded myself, we would need a lot of help to pull this off, and those helpers should be paid. I could frame it to her as a way to deny the furniture and other heavy items to Rashid instead of a way to sell them.

“All right,” I said. “Deal.”

“Glad to hear it. You’re on, boy. I’ll still need your morning performances, but I’m sure you can work around that.” He tapped the desk beside the necklace. “I’ll get this sold and get the money to you by tomorrow morning, unless you need it tonight. Now, call Tovash back in here, will you?”

I dutifully stuck my head out the door and beckoned Tovash back in. Danash began filling him in on the relevant details, but stopped on seeing me still there.

“You need something else, Emirys?”

I caught myself ducking my head and forced myself to straighten up. I took my leather satchel out from under my cloak and held out the first thing that came to my fingertips, the gold statuette I’d nearly dropped before.

“There’s more?” At Danash’s gesture, Tovash took it. I passed over a fine crystal perfume bottle, still full, a pair of elegant golden candle holders, the delicate filigree pendant, and a small silver and gold hand mirror. As I pulled out one thing after another, Danash began laughing again. He sat down behind his desk and put his face in one hand, shoulders shaking.

“Is that all of it, or are you gonna empty your boots out next?”

“That’s everything.” When he just watched me incredulously for a moment I shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. “She wants a house.”

“Mmm, does she. Might be I can help you out with that.” He looked over the bounty on his desk and shook his head. “Rashid really pays her in this shit? I’ll have to remember, if I ever open up a brothel.”

“It sounds like he raised her from a young age, so she never knew any better.”

“Hmm. Well, unless you’ve got any more surprises for me, we’ll speak again after tomorrow’s performance.”

“No more surprises,” I promised, and left the office. I couldn’t entirely hide my grin of elation as I made my way to the door and out onto the streets. _This is going to work! I can’t wait to tell Atika._


	5. Chapter 4 - Ascension

Chapter 4 – Ascension

I practically bounced my way up the stairs the next morning. Danash was already making his way toward his office, and I followed after him, reining my pace in so as not to overtake him. I hid a smile as a few lingering gangers noticed me headed to the office and stared after me. _That’s right, boys. Guess who’s working with the boss._

“I’ve got someone for you to meet, Emirys,” Danash said over his shoulder as he stepped into his office. Curious, I followed him in. There was a kin woman already waiting inside; she stood up, turning to Danash.

“Selena, thank you for your patience.” Danash bowed to her, a bit stiffly with the cane, and I just stared. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him do that before.

She acknowledged his bow with a graceful dip. “It was no trouble, Danash. I understand that your schedule has to be dynamic.” She turned her gaze to me as he went behind the desk and took a seat. “This is the one, then?”

“Yes. Emirys, this is Selena. She’s going to turn you into a noble.”

I blinked in surprise, then shied back a bit when she extended a hand to me. But she gave me a warm, private smile and tilted an eyebrow. Face warming, I extended my hand to shake hers. To my surprise, she showed no sign of distaste or reticence at touching me.

“Emirys. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I managed.

“Danash has hired me to make you into a convincing noble for a job of his.” She looked me up and down. “I see what you mean about hiding him being unlikely to work.” This she directed at Danash. “With that coloration, you have to hide it or own it. And I agree that owning it will work much better.” She nodded, looking satisfied. “Well, Emirys, Danash says that your performance needs to be perfect. As such I will be the sole judge of if and when you are ready to proceed with your role in this con. Fortunately, it sounds like the timing is flexible. Will this be a problem?”

She watched me, her gaze piercing, and I shook my head, dredging up my confidence. “No, ma’am. That will be fine.”

She beamed at me. “Lovely. Then let us set a time and place for your first lesson.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any place for something like that.”

“That presents no problem,” she assured me. “I have a small studio on Qanat Al-Ashjar, close to the Sunset Gate. It’s near Kabbat Street.”

“I know the area.”

“Good. There will be a blue and green pennant hanging outside. Would you like to begin today?”

“That sounds great. How about this afternoon, say, around the fourth bell?”

“It is decided, then.” She gave me a smile and a dip of her head, then turned back to Danash. “I will keep you apprised of our progress. Is there aught else I can do for you?”

Danash shook his head. “Thank you again for your assistance in this matter.”

“It is no trouble at all. I look forward to working with Emirys.” She gave him one last bow of the head and left.

Once she was gone, Danash let out a sigh. “You’re in good hands. Selena is the best teacher out there. She’s nobility herself, actually. Got some bad experience in her past that makes her more than happy to work against ‘em. You want to work with her, though, better never bring that up. And start using your manners as soon as you get ‘em. She won’t work with anyone she doesn’t like, and she likes good manners.”

I nodded, filing the information away, and he rummaged around in his desk, coming out with a large purse. He dropped it at the front edge of his desk, and my eyes widened as I realized that must be the money from Atika’s things.

“You wanna talk houses, or you planning on doing that on your own?”

Since he knew exactly how much money I had to work with, he probably wasn’t the best person to buy from. Though, if he considered this part of the con, he might actually be straight with me. Either way, though, I didn’t know shit about buying a house, and real estate was one of his main businesses.

“I would like your advice at the very least, sir,” I told him. “Depending on what you have and what she’s looking for, I might want more than just that.”

“Have a seat, then,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Surprised but disinclined to argue, I did. We talked for about an hour and a half, discussing every aspect of homebuying Danash knew, most of which I knew nothing about. Armed with new knowledge and a few possibilities to present to Atika, I left to visit her.

I found her waiting in her chair by the window when I arrived.

“Emirys, you’re here.”

I smiled at her and tied my makeshift rope swing to her grate. She seemed relieved, and I realized she had been a little worried I’d take her stuff and disappear, despite what she’d said yesterday. I decided to set her mind at ease right away, pulling out the heavy purse Danash had given me and showing her the contents. Her eyes grew huge.

“Is that what I think it is? Did you somehow manage to sell _everything_ already?”

I smiled. “Well, I was trying to come up with a plan, and I realized we probably aren’t going to be able to do all this by ourselves. So I enlisted some help with getting your stuff sold. I hope you don’t mind,” I added, a touch anxiously. “My boss has some young kids, orphans, that work for him. Between being young, cute, and not bright red, they can get more money for your stuff than I could. That means they get a cut of the profits, but I think it’s worth it. They move fast, too.”

Atika smiled. “That was very clever of you. Those poor kids…” She shook herself. “I’ve been struggling with the same thing in my own planning. We’ll need some help, and I don’t have anyone other than you that I can turn to. I thought maybe we could get this grate off and make a big show of leaving, but Rashid’s got guards. They’re supposed to keep us safe, but he’ll send them after us for sure if we try that.”

“I have an idea,” I told her, “plus I’ve got other people I can call on. So, think about this. Once you’re gone, Rashid is just going to keep all this stuff he bought you, right? Everything we can’t carry off.” She nodded. “What if we get him to move it all—or at least most of it—somewhere else just before your disappearing act? It’ll be easier to escape cleanly from somewhere less fortified, too.”

She laughed. “What are you thinking, Emirys?”

“How do you think Rashid would respond if a wealthy, noble red lizard were to visit the city from far away?”

Her gaze narrowed in on me. “He’d fall all over himself to market me to him, of course.”

“As I expected. And if this lizard is known to have no interest in prostitutes, well, he’ll have to come up with some way to dress it up as something else if he wants his money. Something that, with any luck, will involve renting a place elsewhere and moving your stuff in as part of the plan. Maybe a story about you being deeply in debt and needing help, or something like that.”

She held up one hand, a look of fierce concentration on her face. “No. I know the kind of narratives that work for this, and that one won’t. It’ll be too much like buying me. Even if this fictional noble would go for it, Rashid never would. He wouldn’t risk someone wanting to take me away.” She drummed her fingertips on the arm of her chair. “No, the money needs to be more incidental, the meeting more… illicit.”

Her eyes snapped to mine and she grinned. “I am the young, exotic trophy wife of an old noble. He keeps me mainly as a status symbol, and I am lonely and unfulfilled, both emotionally and romantically. When I hear of a red lizard coming to the city, I feel it must be destiny, and I send the only servant I can trust to keep my secrets, my handmaiden, to him.

“She explains this situation to him, says that I am dying to meet him, but I cannot leave my home. Since I do not control the finances or the servants, he would need to bribe them heavily to keep their silence. But, if he feels it worthwhile, I would welcome his company eagerly.” She grinned. “Of course, such a lizard would no doubt feel the pull of destiny as well, and feel that bribing a few servants is a small price to pay to fulfill this destiny.”

I stared at her in amazement. “Wow. That’s… perfect. I couldn’t have come up with something half so good.”

She gave me a gentle smile. “This _is_ what I do. I’m very good at it.”

“So I see,” I said. “And that’s good, because with any luck Rashid will come to you someday soon to tell you about this red noble, and you’ll suggest this to him. I don’t for a second doubt he’ll be as impressed as I am and adopt the plan on the spot.

“So, assuming that works, he’ll get you moved into a rented house, hire people to act as servants—or even just use the whores and guards he’s got already—and then reach out to this red noble. Who, I’m sure you’ve guessed, will actually be me. I’ve got someone who’s going to teach me to play the part convincingly. I come along, pay generously in counterfeit money, and stroll off with you before they realize. Rashid figures it out and sends his men to search for you, and my boss seizes your furniture to pay for the help—you’ll get a small portion of it too. What do you think?”

She sat back, thoughtful. “High profile exit, and Rashid gets none of my earnings. I think that’ll do nicely. Though I might like to keep some of my furniture.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised her. “Now, what exactly is it you’re looking for in a house? My boss owns a number of properties that might be what you’re looking for. He _claims_ he’ll give me a fair price…”

* * *

“Emirys, so good to see you again. How are you doing this afternoon?”

“I’m well,” I told her, following her to a small parlor. Once seated, she turned toward me.

“We shall begin with the absolute basics. The first thing you must learn is that all action comes from thought. If you would act the part of a noble, you must have the mindset of one. Now, you know, do you not, that the nobility are intrinsically different—inherently better—than the common folk?”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

“Wrong!” Her elegant voice snapped like a whip, bringing my head back in surprise. “That is the lie that keeps them perched precariously at the top of our society. The only thing that sets you apart from a noble is knowledge and an unwritten code of speech and action. When I am done with you, you too will have this knowledge, these mannerisms. You will not be impersonating a noble. You will _be_ one.”

I leaned back, blinking as I tried to take this in. “But…” Mindful of my manners, I rephrased my objection more politely. “Generally, a high birth is required to truly make someone a noble.”

“And what makes someone’s birth high? Is it a fancier bed? Money? No.” She leaned forward. “Every noble knows this is a fiction. It is why they define it so vaguely yet cling to it so fiercely. And now that you know the secret, you can define it to include yourself. Emirys,” she said, smiling, “you’re going to be a noble. Think about that. Tell yourself that.”

I took a deep breath, letting her words sink into me. I thought about what she’d said about the mindset, the knowledge, the nebulous requirements. And I thought, _I’m going to be a noble._ I repeated it out loud and heard confidence approaching certainty in my voice.

“Congratulations,” she told me. “You’ve learned the first lesson. Now that you’re ready to claim your birthright, we can start with the next lesson. Pay attention, if you would, to the angle of your spine.”

I did, relieved to find I was sitting up straight.

“Do you know if you were sitting so straight before the last lesson?”

“I’m not really sure,” I admitted. “But I somehow doubt it.”

“You have good instincts,” she said. “You were not. But the mere knowledge and belief in your new place has instinctively made you sit like a noble. For now you will learn to be conscious of your posture and gestures; soon that will become second nature.”

For a few hours she taught me how to sit, how to stand, how to walk. The exercises and drills she gave me seemed at first blush to have nothing to do with becoming a noble, but I soon realized that these mannerisms and gestures—not to mention the confidence that mastering them imparted—were pivotal to seeming natural and practiced. I was an eager student, and Selena seemed to appreciate it. We set a time for our next meeting, and I walked home with new confidence in my steps.

* * *

“You have the clothing, then?”

I nodded. “The last pieces arrived this morning.”

“Well, let’s see how it fits.”

I changed into the noble’s clothing that Atika had helped me buy. Selena assisted me in getting it all arranged properly, taking the opportunity to teach me a bit more about fashion as she did, then stepped back and looked me over with a critical eye.

“It fits well,” she said. “I see you took my suggestion of wearing something more revealing; good. I know you’ll have to adjust to showing so much skin, but it will sell your act. And it’ll help with the spectacle, too; everyone will want to see you, and this will make that easy.”

I crossed to the room’s full-length mirror and blinked at the stranger staring back at me. It was my red skin, but accentuated by gold-accented black silk, I looked like a prince. The fine fabric hugged my figure, leaving my well-muscled arms and shoulders bare along with much of my back, with gold chains over my shoulders connecting the front and back panels. The pants were just as fine, a deep navy blue with the same gold accents. I wore a matching hat and gloves to complete the ensemble.

“Now, the posture,” Selena said, and I forced myself to stop staring.

_I’ve always looked like this,_ I reminded myself. _It’s just been hidden. Time to let it out._ I drew myself up and gave myself a haughty look. I had to fight a threatening smile at how well the expression suited the clothes.

“Very good.” She studied me in silence. “It needs something more, though. Something that proclaims ‘I am red, and _you_ are not.’ Something that will bring it all together.” She pondered for a moment longer. “Jewelry, perhaps. With rubies or garnets—well, or the best facsimile you can manage.”

I looked myself over once again. “Some rings, then, maybe a necklace.” I reached for the hat to take it off, and Selena raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting this somewhere it won’t get ruined?”

“Not yet,” she said with a smile. “It’s time for us to pay Danash a visit. You’re ready, Emirys.”

My heart beat faster. _Finally!_ “Like this?” I asked.

“Absolutely. When he sees it, he’ll realize it too. Now, we should keep meeting to work on your Malitan accent, but you’re ready to move forward.”

I threw my cloak over the ensemble and we set out.

“I’ll need a name, won’t I?” I asked her as we walked. “Or is Emirys a suitably noble-sounding name?”

“It is, but it’s also very distinctive. Someone might have heard it in conjunction with you before, and if they saw you were red but then doubted or dismissed it, that could call it up again. You’ll need a different name.” We walked for a few minutes, then she snapped her fingers.

“On second thought, you don’t need a name at all. You’re the Red Noble. You’re so famous, so singular, that you don’t even use your name. After all, any father could give his child your name, but no one else can be the Red Noble. Your underlings will call you ‘sir,’ as will anyone else you speak to.”

I nodded slowly, the idea growing on me. “That’s good. That fits with the personality, the show-off attitude.” I flashed her a toothy grin as I opened the door for her. “Again, I’m in your debt, my lady.”

She laughed lightly and led the way to Danash’s office. At her request I left my hood up, and once inside the office she gestured to me.

“Danash, I’d like you to meet someone. An associate of mine.”

Putting on my air of nobility, I tossed the cloak off. Danash’s eyes went wide at the sight of me. _Only to be expected, of course._

“The Red Noble,” Selena announced me, “from the far land of Malitiy.”

I offered Danash a courtly half-bow and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He bowed back, unable to hide a growing smirk. “A pleasure, sir.” His grin broke free. “My boy, you look stunning. You’re going to have anyone who sees you completely blinded.” He shook his head, still grinning. “By the gods, this is going to work.”

“It is,” Selena said with a smile. “He has my approval to move forward with your plans. We will meet a few more times to perfect his accent, but if he had to play the part tomorrow he would be good enough.” She grew serious. “But, Emirys, once the rumors start you can’t afford to be seen by anyone until your act begins. You need to stay at home, or make sure you don’t show any skin at all, or it’ll all be for nothing.”

I suppressed a sigh. “I understand.” I glanced at Danash. “Maybe there’s somewhere I can stay in here? So I don’t have to walk back and forth every day.”

Danash nodded, thoughtful. “We could clear out one of the storerooms easily enough. And perhaps you should have some prosthetics for your shows, something to make you look more obviously demonic.”

“In that case, I will come here for our lessons…?”

Danash nodded, and I turned to Selena. “That shall be the plan. Afternoons, as usual.” I gave her a deep bow, and she curtsied to both of us before departing. I turned to Danash before following.

“I need to speak with Atika one last time. Make sure she’s solid on the plan and won’t panic if I go silent for a while. Once I do that, I’ll grab what I’ll need to live here, and the boys can start the rumors. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. But, like the lady said, don’t get seen, eh?”

“Of course. I’ll be back before the afternoon heat dies down.”

I made my way home, changed back into my rags, and carefully stowed my fine clothing in a padded garment carrier. I spent a half hour packing everything I’d need for the next few weeks, waiting for the heat to get really unbearable before departing. I wasn’t taking any risks at this stage.

When I arrived at Atika’s window I didn’t see her, though I heard the sounds of someone moving around. I watched nervously for a moment, praying nothing problematic had happened. It wasn’t long until she came into view, stopping when she saw me.

“Oh, Emirys, there you are. I’m just getting together another bundle for you to sell.”

I watched her as she moved around, drinking her in. _Gods, I’m going to miss her._ When she came to the window and began passing me things, I worked up a smile.

“We’re ready to move forward with the next stage.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve about had it with Rashid. It feels like every night I can’t possibly stand him for one more day.” She sighed. “Somehow I keep managing. Thoughts of revenge, mostly.”

“Well, it won’t be too much longer. Are you good on your part?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I know how to manage him. By the time I’m done, he’ll think it was his idea.”

I nodded. “This means I can’t afford to be seen at all, though. I won’t be able to visit again.”

She stopped halfway through pushing a shawl out the side gap of the latticework and gave me a stricken look. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but it pierced my heart nonetheless. “I suppose there’s nothing for it,” she said. “We can’t have anything compromise the plan at this point. If you ride into the city and people point at you and say, ‘Hey, isn’t that that one beggar?’ it won’t go well for you.”

I nodded. “As for the stuff you want to keep, Danash thinks he can manipulate the housing market so the only fine houses available for rent will be his. He’ll know when you’re moved in and where. So, once you get everything moved in, take a day to arrange and rearrange everything a few times. The second evening after you move in I’ll send porters to take the stuff you want to keep to our place. Just act like that all won’t fit or doesn’t match, and any guards Rashid has posted should assume it’s being brought back here.”

She nodded. “Easy enough. I’m pretty fussy about how things are arranged, so it shouldn’t raise any eyebrows.” She reached through the bars to touch my cheek. “Be careful, Emirys. I’ll miss you terribly.”

I gave her a smile, laying my hand over hers. “I’ll miss you too. But the next time you see me, I’ll be a noble. Trust me, you’re going to love the outfit.”

She giggled. “I can’t wait to see. I suspect I’ll most enjoy taking it off you.”

I laughed and gave her hand a kiss. “I better go. You be careful too, okay?”

“I will,” she promised.

I headed back home to grab my things. As I gathered up my noble’s clothing, I remembered Selena’s suggestion about jewelry. I dug out the pieces I’d gotten off that pickpocket, looking for any with red gems. There were a few, two that fit me nicely and one too small and delicate to fit me or my disguise. As I went to put it back, an idea occurred to me. I put it in with my fine outfit and left for Danash’s headquarters.


	6. Chapter 5 - Zenith

I looked out over the group of raggedy people in front of me and tried not to visibly wrinkly my nose. They stared at me, wearing expressions of disbelief and fascination.

“Very well,” I sighed, “ask your questions.”

I was in my noble guise, and the rumors, I was told, were working their way through the city. They needed to get to know the Red Noble, since they would be posing as attendants, servants, and slaves, either accompanying me or sent ahead to make preparations for my arrival.

My intentions in doing this were twofold. First, this gave them a chance to become familiar with how I behaved as a noble; I wouldn’t want servants who had supposedly served me for years to seem surprised or taken aback by my orders or behavior. And second, having them all see the getup, the act, would make it easier for them to describe me convincingly to others—and, once people found out they were my attendants, they would be peppered with questions.

For more than a half hour they asked the kinds of questions that they’d been overhearing, and I answered each at length. I also spent some time discussing the past Selena had concocted for me, about my family and my achievements.

Just when I thought I’d depleted all the questions, Danash surprised me by speaking up from the doorway.

“Why is it you don’t visit whorehouses? Worried about catching some disease?”

“While that is always a concern, that is not the primary reason. For me, love’s thrill comes from the pursuit, the conquest. At a brothel, that is entirely bypassed with the exchange of money. It takes all the fun right out of it,” I said with a theatrical sigh. “And since I have no shortage of would-be lovers, it simply holds no allure for me. Why would it, when I can seduce anyone I wish to?” I grinned.

“Remember that,” Danash told my audience. “That’s a major aspect of the job. Make sure people know he won’t be visiting any brothels.” He was answered by a murmur of affirmation, and I glanced around.

“Are there any further questions?”

There were not, and my assistants dispersed singly and in groups, discussing the rumor fuel I’d just given them. I shifted to a more relaxed stance and watched them go. Danash approached me as the last few left, eyeing me critically.

“So, you can seduce anyone you want to, eh?”

I had practiced for my role with Atika as well as Selena, working on my confidence and familiarity with romantic situations. I unleashed what she called my devastating smile: confidence, playfulness, a touch of charm, and a heavy dose of wickedness all rolled together. “Do you doubt me?”

Danash’s reaction was gratifying; he blinked a few times and had to cough before speaking. “Well, I’ll allow that you’ve come a long way from the half-feral adolescent my men dragged out of that alley. But _anyone_ might be a bit of a stretch.”

“I said _anyone,_ and _anyone_ I meant,” I said with cavalier confidence. I took a slow, deliberate step toward him, then another, saw something fiery and dangerous ignite in his eyes. A spike of alarm pierced me. _Better not push him,_ I realized. _I need to de-escalate this somehow._ Stopping, I frowned and tilted my head. “Is it not working? Bother…” I took a thinking pose, as though trying to figure out what had gone wrong, and Danash harrumphed.

“I can’t believe you almost failed to discuss such an integral topic. It’ll be a problem if Rashid tries to lure you to his brothel, or have you forgotten?”

I ducked my head, chastened. “Only temporarily, I assure you. But your reminder was most timely. For that I must thank you.” I offered him a bow, and he snorted.

“Don’t mention it.” He turned and clumped away, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. Of late he hadn’t seemed to mind me being near him, but apparently he only permitted it on his terms. It was a lesson I wouldn’t forget; whatever he’d been contemplating, just the look in his eyes had put my hackles up. Still a bit chilled by the near miss, I began changing out of my finery.

* * *

I dozed lightly as the carriage bumped and jostled along the road. It had been an early morning, getting up in the wee hours of the morning to get into costume and assemble the caravan some distance from the city. I was lucky; most of my helpers had to stay alert, both for their roles and to keep the horses moving. Early on, they took turns napping in the carriage with me, but once the sun came up fully we had to maintain appearances.

“Milord, we are approaching the city.”

I shook off my sleepiness and sat up, looking out the window. The city’s wall loomed before us, the Sun Gate gleaming in the morning sunlight, imposing and beautiful. I admired the sight of it as we passed beneath it. In my persona, I savored the city’s sights through new eyes.

As we passed a busy market, an elf turned and caught sight of me, her eyes going wide. I couldn’t hear what she said, but the people around her turned to gape at me. I gave them an indulgent smile and a wave, hiding the nervousness that coiled into my gut. Now we would find out how people were going to react to the Red Noble.

I watched the news ripple through the crowd; some people paused for a curious glance before returning to their business, others stared in disbelief or awe as I passed. To my eternal relief, no one seemed frightened or angry. I passed a group of well-dressed women and gave them a flirtatious smile and a wave; they blushed and waved back, tittering and whispering to one another.

I kept my smile fixed in place, hiding my disgust. Being wealthy made all the difference, it seemed; ordinarily those women would have shunned me or screamed for help upon seeing me. But, mindful of my purpose, I made nice with the gawkers, smiling, waving, and handing out sweets to the children brave enough to come up to my carriage.

My passage caused more than rumors to ripple outward. As we progressed I saw more and more vendors waving whatever wares they had that happened to be red, from scarves to fruit to cosmetics. I kept an eye out for anything that might catch my fancy, but nothing was extraordinary enough to stop for. We proceeded to the location of my supposed business and rested there a few hours, giving the rumors time to circulate throughout the city.

I directed my driver to a larger market for lunch, dismounting when we arrived to stroll through the stalls. I perused the myriad wares, eating languorously and letting my attendants answer questions and tell stories about me. Before long Kaneth, playing the part of my head servant, approached.

“My lord, there is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you directly.”

I followed his glance to see an older kin with green scales squeezing his hands together anxiously. _Could this be Rashid’s messenger?_

“Let him approach,” I commanded. Kaneth waved him over.

“Thank you for seeing me, sir.” He bowed. “I am called Hameed.”

I gave him a regal nod. “A pleasure, I’m sure. Now, what is it you wish of me?”

His anxiousness returned. “My lord, I apologize in advance if my question is impertinent. But some time ago, about two decades hence, I knew of a child that was born as red as yourself.”

“Do you wish, then, to hear the tale of my birth?” I smiled. “As you perhaps know, I hail from Malitiy, and in that land we take worship of the gods very seriously. Shortly before my birth, a terrible blasphemy was committed, and a jealous noblewoman framed my lady mother as the culprit. When she was taken to be burned at the stake, she was in great distress, since she knew herself to be innocent but the deception had been cunning enough that none believed her.

“So it came to pass that, in her distress, she delivered me even as the flames began to rise around her. But the flames did not touch us, only burning away her bonds, and as she took me in her arms, she knew it was a sign from the gods. She stood in the flames until the fire spent itself and none could deny her innocence.

“Naturally, the investigation was reopened, the other noblewoman’s guilt was discovered and punished, and I have henceforth been called the Son of the Flames.”

His eyes dropped, and he said. “That is a fascinating tale, sir. But the birth I knew of was in this city, not Malitiy.”

I pursed my lips, looking thoughtful. “Now, wouldn’t that be something, if there were another like me.”

“Ah—” I gave Hameed a curious look, and he seemed to wilt a bit. “My thoughts as well. Thank you again for your time, sir. I’ll not take up any more of it.” He offered me another bow and departed. I watched him as he left, my curiosity roused. I wondered for a moment what my father had looked like, what his name had been. My mother had never spoken of him. There was enough similarity in our features that it wasn’t impossible that had been him. If so, the rumors must have drawn him to seek me out, wondering if I might be the son he’d abandoned.

If that had been him, though, he was about a decade too late for me to care. Plus, I was too busy to worry about it now; I needed to make sure Rashid’s messenger found me. Fortunately, that didn’t take long. Not twenty minutes later, Kaneth came again, this time with a woman. I bade her approach and she curtsied deeply.

“Sire, I bear a message for you from my mistress, the Lady Atika. You could not know of her, but she is most eager to meet you.” She raised her hand, showing me a locket clasped in it, and extended it to me. Intrigued, I took and opened it, let my eyes go wide at the detailed depiction of the red woman inside.

“This is she?” I breathed, and the woman nodded. “Tell me true—she is like me? Can this be possible?”

“She is, my lord, and I beg your discretion in this matter, for reasons I’ll explain.” I nodded eager agreement and gestured for her to proceed.

“I am my lady’s handmaiden, her closest friend and confidant. Being noble and unique, her family feared to reveal her existence to the world at large, and when an elderly acquaintance of the family sought a wife to comfort him in his advanced age, he chose her to be the one. Save myself, the household staff is all his people, and she does not have many friends.

“In short, my lord, she is lonely and unfulfilled, and the most beautiful house in the world becomes a prison when one cannot leave. But when she heard of your arrival in our fair city, she felt it must be destiny and sent me to seek you out. Since she does not manage the household funds, you would have to bring some offering for the servants to encourage them to keep their peace about your visit. But if you feel it worth the while, I would gladly guide you to her.”

“Destiny, indeed,” I said, thoughtful. “I _must_ meet her. Cost is, of course, no object; I shall have my servant sort that out.” I looked down one last time at the locket in my hands, then closed it and extended it to her.

She did not take it, to my surprise. “She said that was to be a gift to the one as red as she; she hopes a part of her will travel always with you. Will you take your carriage or walk, my lord?”

Smiling my gratitude, I slipped the locket around my neck. “I’m afraid I attract too much attention to make any clandestine meetings on foot,” I told her with a wry grin. “But before we set out, there is one thing I must do. I could not come to her empty-handed, after all; it simply wouldn’t do.”

I led my retinue toward the jeweler’s alley and looked over the offerings there. I browsed until I ran into Shakti’s stall and “bought” a delicate garnet ring for Atika. That done, I invited the maidservant into my carriage. I sent the majority of my attendants off on various errands, and she directed the driver to a beautiful walled estate in the Sunset district.

An older lizard answered the gate. I studied him from the carriage as the maidservant introduced Kaneth to him. He matched the description of Rashid, and I contained a grim smile. Of course he’d be here to watch over his valuable property. A large bag of money changed hands, and Kaneth returned, opening the carriage door.

“My lord, all has been settled, and the lady anxiously awaits your visit.”

“Lovely, thank you.” I descended and entered the estate, giving Rashid a polite nod as I passed him. I barely noticed the lovely house I strode through, so intent was I upon my goal. As we paused before a closed door, I took a deep breath, reminding myself to act at least a little surprised.

The maidservant bowed to me and then opened the door, and there she was, resplendent in a gold gown and headdress. Even knowing what I’d find, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

She turned at the sound of the door, saw me, and for a moment we just gazed at each other, reliving the connection forged between us in the first moment we’d met. Then she smiled, coming to the doorway, and I remembered my manners.

I bowed deeply with a flourish. “My lady, it can only be destiny that brings our lives together. To think that I am not truly alone in this world… it is a feeling beyond compare. A feeling I dare to hope you are experiencing, too.”

She laughed, joyous. “I do, my lord. I truly do. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you.”

I withdrew the ring I’d brought for her. “A symbol of our connection. Though it cannot match your beauty or grace, may its pale reflection serve to remind you of me.”

She accepted it, admiring it for a moment before finding a finger it fit. “Your words put the beauty of your gift to shame. I shall treasure them both.”

I glanced around. “Might we speak further in a more private setting, my lady?”

“Of course. Sian, see to it that I am not disturbed.”

“And,” I added, “if you’d be so kind, inform my coach to return after the day’s heat has passed.”

The handmaiden bowed and closed the door behind us. I glanced around, listening, making sure no one else was around, then I took Atika in my arms and kissed her soundly.

“Oh, Emirys,” she whispered, “I’ve missed you so. And you look so handsome!”

I chuckled. “I meant everything I said earlier. You’re ravishing, my dear. Shall we withdraw to somewhere else, somewhere we can be _truly_ alone?”

She gave me a mischievous grin. “No sooner said than done, since we’re on the first floor.” She grabbed a small bag from a side table and grinned at me. “Let’s go.”

Trusting that she had a plan, I followed her to a window. She opened it with some hidden mechanism, handed me her bag, and hopped out. I passed her the bag and followed, then took her hand as we made for the gate at the far end of the garden. I glanced back for one last triumphant look as we passed through and paused in surprise.

“What is it?”

I glanced at Atika, then looked back at the window we’d left from, frowning. “I thought I saw a figure in the window.” _Just an impression of white robes and a dark face._ I shook myself. “There’s nothing there. I must have imagined it.”

We met Kaneth and the carriage at the meeting point a block away from the manor, and I directed him to our home. I thanked him for the ride, and asked him to remind Danash that I’d need to lie low for a week or so. Grinning, he congratulated me on a job well played. I joined Atika inside, for a long moment just savoring the idea of us living together… being together.

“Do you like it?” I asked her, and she turned to me, beaming.

“I love it! It may be a bit more sparse than I’m used to, but it’s nice having more space. Oh, and we can visit the countryside any time we want to, or that sealed-off place in the aqueducts, or put on disguises and go to the markets…” She spun in a circle, almost dancing, and I caught her in my arms.

“I imagine,” I murmured, “right about now Rashid is creeping close to the door, wondering if we’re still talking or if you’ve seduced me already.” She gazed at me, eyes sparkling, mesmerized. “He realizes after a minute that it’s too quiet. Maybe he’ll try to sneak in, or maybe he gets suspicious and checks the money more closely.” I grinned. “I imagine right about now he’s realizing he’s been played.”

She laughed and pulled me into the bedroom. “Come, Emirys, this calls for celebration. And I know just how to go about it.”

“Oh?” I said with the most innocent look I could muster. “What do you mean?”

She pushed me backwards onto the bed, and I let myself sprawl out, grinning up at her. She climbed up to straddle me, and I ran my hands up her dress.

“As beautiful as this dress is, as soft and inviting, I think I prefer your skin,” I murmured, lifting its hem and slipping my hands beneath. She made a satisfied humming sound, then burst into laughter when I lifted the hem more imperiously.

“Fine, fine, but if I take it off you have to do the same.”

“Deal.” I grinned at her and stripped my own top off. I let it fall to the side, finding her with her dress most of the way off, just staring at me. I arched an eyebrow. “Has it been so long since you’ve seen me like this?”

She ducked her head. “Emirys, I have never seen you like _this._ ” She let her dress fall from her hands and leaned down, putting her hands on my chest and kissing my throat.

“Mmm,” I murmured, bringing one hand to her hip and trailing the other gently over her crest. She moved slowly down my body, stripping my clothes off as she went and leaving me aching for her. I wanted her to hurry up, but really, there was no rush. We weren’t even leaving home for a week. As much as I wanted to be inside her already, she had taught me the value of anticipation, and taught me well. So, when she returned to straddle me again after fully disrobing me, I drew her down for a kiss, then rolled her over so I was on top.

“My turn,” I growled, and she giggled. I disrobed her as languorously as she’d done me, but I didn’t return to straddling her, instead nestling myself between her thighs. She shuddered as I ran a fingertip along the outside of her slit, reaching down to cup my head in her hands.

“Oh, Emirys,” she gasped, and I gently slid the finger in, then out. Her hands clenched on me, and I repeated the motion, then withdrew my finger and put it in my mouth, tasting her nectar. With tongue and fingers, I brought her to a slow climax, as she’d taught me to do the last time we were together. Only then, when she lay beneath me, limp with bliss, did I move up to mount her.

She recovered quickly from her lethargy, guiding me inside her and then caressing me as I began to move. I had to remind myself frequently that there was no rush, but it was worth it as we slowly built passion atop desire into a heavens-high spiral of ecstasy. Complete in each other, we lay entwined in bliss, kissing and caressing, and slowly sleep claimed me.


	7. Chapter 6 - Eclipse

Three days later, I still had not had my fill of Atika. Not just her lovely body, but her mind, her clever turns of phrase, her playful nature, the adorable way she wrinkled her nose when I teased her about something.

It was her body that I was worshiping at the moment, though. I thrust into her, hard and fast, feeling my orgasm build. She reached back and smacked my butt, making me laugh and my stride falter for a second.

“Careful,” I teased her, my voice low, rough from desire. “Or were you not planning on coming with me?” I gently bit the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, and her laugh died with a gasp.

On her knees below me, she rebalanced her weight and lifted a hand; it disappeared between her legs.

“Yes,” I breathed, and thrust yet harder. “That’s right. Come for me, Atika.”

Soft sounds escaped her lips, built into a mewling that rose in pitch and volume. She seized around me, and I groaned, my teeth still on her neck, as my own pleasure seized me, drove me forward as I spilled into her. Overwhelmed, I collapsed onto her, driving us both flat onto the bed, and she laughed.

“You all right there?” Her voice was dark and low with pleasure and amusement.

“Never better,” I gasped, pulling out and rolling onto my back. I draped one arm over my eyes, chest heaving as I caught my breath. I smiled as she settled beside me. Then she screamed.

My eyes snapped open, and I rolled onto my side to see what was the matter. Time seemed to stop for one horrible moment as I took in the scene—Atika’s face, mouth agape in horror and agony, a knife hilt glittering from the center of her chest, an ebon-skinned lizard standing at the bedside, his hand just leaving the blade’s handle. Time recompressed, and I shot up.

“What have you done?!”

My voice was terrible with fury and disbelief, but the lizard showed no sign of concern. I gathered Atika tenderly into my arms, panicking. I had no knowledge of healing, no scrolls, nothing. Maybe I could get her to a healer… but deep inside I knew it was futile; her blood was spreading over the bedcovers, too much of it lost, and the knife was squarely in her heart. I drew her to my chest, supported her head up onto my shoulder, and rocked her, heedless of the blood spilling onto me.

“I did only that which I must to ensure our race’s future.” His voice was like smoke and honey, rich and deep and dangerous.

“What?” I shook my head, still unable to accept the reality before me. “She is no threat!” I blinked as my tears spilled over, dropping onto Atika’s form.

“Emirys,” she gasped, her voice broken with pain, and I leaned down. “Emirys, I-I don’—” Her lips kept moving, but my damnable tears prevented me from seeing what she said. She gave one last pained gasp, one last sigh, and fell still.

I laid her down gently and dashed my tears away with one arm. The murderer was saying something about a prophecy and our offspring. I didn’t care. He would die if it was the last thing I accomplished. I stood up, and he brandished another dagger.

“No closer, unless you wish to join her.”

I coughed out something between a laugh and a sob. _Idiot. I want_ nothing _more than to be where she is. But you’ll die first._ I took a swing at him, but he dodged it nimbly.

“And _what_ do you really think you’re going to accomplish like that, hmm?”

My fury rose even higher at his condescension, and I felt a spark of power flare from deep within me. Heedless of its nature or source, I fanned it, letting it swell, but before I could unleash it, the creature disappeared and agony stabbed me between my shoulder blades. I spun, collapsing partly on the bed.

As if from a great distance, I heard him say, “What a waste,” then footfalls sounded, each quieter than the last. I focused on my goal, expending all my strength to lever myself up onto the bed. Pain lanced me again as I fell fully onto the mattress, bumping the hilt of the knife in my back in the process, but even the searing agony flowing through my veins was starting to become distant.

I tenderly took Atika’s body in my arms, cradling her close as darkness began encroaching on my vision. “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “This is all… my…” _fault._ But the pain was gone from her face, the serene expression holding the hint of a smile, and I realized what she’d been trying to tell me.

“I don’t regret anything, my love.”

My tears spilled over again, and as darkness stole her from me, I promised her, _I’ll be with you again soon._

* * *

_Danash_

I stepped inside and closed the door, turning to Kaneth. He stood, still holding the purse he’d been sent to deliver, wringing it in his hands.

“Tell me what happened,” I ordered, keeping my voice gentle in deference to his anguish.

“I came over to deliver his cut like you told me to. He didn’t answer, but the door was unlocked, so I slipped in to leave it on the table. Figured they were busy with each other and didn’t want to disturb them. But when I went in the kitchen, I saw a half-prepared meal sitting out, starting to go bad.

“That didn’t seem right, and I listened, realized there wasn’t any sound at all.” He flushed. “I wasn’t listening before, intentionally, but once I tuned in it was obvious. So I looked around to figure out what was wrong, and…” He broke off, took a few deep breaths. “I found their bodies in the bedroom.”

I leaned on my cane, thinking, pushing back my emotions for now. “Which way?”

He pointed, and I headed toward the doorway. “Give me a moment,” I said, and he nodded, sinking into a chair. I stopped in the doorway to inspect the scene.

The lovebirds were laid out on the bed, which was coated in their still-drying blood. My first look at his woman was like a punch to the gut; she was beautiful, graceful, just as red as he was. _Godsdamn, he wasn’t kidding._ She lay on her back, a knife hilt protruding from her heart, and he had curled around her.

I breathed deep, holding down my fury, and looked for more details. Emirys had a knife hilt protruding from his back; closer examination revealed that the two knives matched and that they were of high quality. That they’d been left meant that someone had wanted to make a statement. Other than that, though, there was no other evidence of violence, no sign of a struggle. They must have been taken unawares.

Gods, what a tragic waste. I had begun toying with the idea of grooming Emirys as my successor; he had the smarts and the panache for it. Now that idea was down the shit chute. And while he’d been close-lipped about his lady, I’d gotten the idea that she was cut from the same cloth as him, intelligent and resourceful.

Gods, lying there together like that, they looked like they’d been handmade for each other, so natural they seemed. Her eyes were closed, but Emirys’s remained open, still gazing at his love in death. I walked over, careful not to tread in their mingled blood, and reached out a shaking hand, tenderly closing his eyes. I bowed my head for a moment, regrets weighing me down, but before long my fury burned them away. I turned and left, and Kaneth rose as I came close. I held out a hand for the pouch, and he passed it over wordlessly.

“Was there any sign of forced entry?”

He shook his head. “Just the unlocked door.”

I nodded. “Muster the boys. We’re going to war. Rashid killed one of ours, and we won’t let that slide.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, straightening up and dashing off.

I followed him at my slower pace, promising Emirys silently that he would be avenged. Whatever the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who stuck this story out. It's special to me in a lot of ways, not least of which being the completely unintended commentary on skin color that just sort of ... happened as I wrote it. If you've enjoyed it, it would mean a lot to me to get a comment or even just kudos. I write for myself, but I always hope others will like it too.
> 
> Thanks again to you for reading this, and to the madlads at Larian for making such amazing characters, story, and world.


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